


Gwydion

by ayatai



Category: King's Quest (Video Games)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-08-20 08:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20225092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayatai/pseuds/ayatai
Summary: Novelization of King's Quest III, pulled from the original game, the remakes, and the King's Quest Companion.





	1. The Lever

June 13th, 1559

_“Chores and punishments, work and sleep; this is all that I knew while growing up.”_

_-Gwydion, King’s Quest Companion_

Escape could remain an idle daydream no longer.

The day I came to this realization began in darkness like so many before it. That morning the moonlight was barely bright enough to illuminate the window above my head, much less the corners of my tiny bedroom. There was little enough for it to reveal in any case. A cot with a worn blanket and pillow, a small clothing chest, and a nightstand missing the lower of its two drawers were the entirety of the room’s contents. The mirror hanging above the nightstand was half-shattered, its sharp edges pointed at the floor. But for all its dilapidated state, the room was free of dust; no cobwebs clung to the rafters; and not a smudge would have marred my reflected image in the mirror had there been enough light to form one.

Fighting back a yawn, I slipped out of bed and felt my way to the clothing chest. I exchanged my nightshirt for my day clothes, a long-sleeved shirt that was several inches too big in the shoulders, and trousers with knees I didn’t think could withstand another patching. The boots I pulled on were worn as well but more or less the right size and comfortable. I pulled on and laced up my jerkin before straightening out the blanket on my bed and stepping out of the room.

Trailing my fingers along the wall as a guide, I made my way past my master's bedroom door and down the stairs, avoiding the steps I knew creaked. Once downstairs, I stepped a little easier as I passed through the entry and dining rooms to enter the kitchen. There I paused only long enough to feed the banked fire, light a candle from its waking flames, and grab an apple before heading outside.

I quickly crossed the tiny half-walled courtyard that sheltered a well, the cellar doors, and a small garden from the near-constant breeze. A break in the wall provided egress, and it was only a few steps from there to the rear wall of the chicken coop. I knew the ground and path so well that I probably didn't need the candle even on this near moonless night, but the steep drop mere paces away necessitated caution. I sat down, leaning my back against one of the coop’s stone supports, and blew the candle out.

The darkness was already surrendering to the grays of dawn. It wasn't long before the distant waves below sparkled as the sun made its appearance on the horizon, revealing a magnificent vista. Port Bruce, nestled far below between seashore and sparse woodland, was beginning to stir. I watched as the docks expelled fishing boat after fishing boat, their white sails dispersing to the sea like dandelion seeds blown from their stalk.

Beyond Port Bruce dark mountains loomed over Llewdor’s northern border, distant brothers to the one my master called home. The lone mountain we lived atop differed in that it had an unnaturally flat peak. This provided the house with a clear view of Llewdor in any direction, a beautiful landscape I could see but never visit.

When I was younger, I used to wonder what it would be like to put my hand in those blue waters, feel the sun-warmed beach sand against my skin, or even have trees tower above my head. Although I had lived here for as long as I could remember, I had never ventured down the mountain path that led to these forbidden wonders.

All too soon, the sun had cleared the horizon. As I stood, I started mentally sorting through all the tasks required to keep the household running to the wizard’s specifications. In addition to my daily chores of cooking, waiting on Manannan at meals, and whatever other tasks the wizard decided needing doing, the garden needed tending, and there would be supplies from town to prepare and store. Every Wednesday my master was gone for a couple of hours, buying the supplies he would magically send up to the house. Some I knew to come from Port Bruce, but from where else I didn’t know, only that the wizard liked to complain about prices and how much feeding me cost.

Before going back inside, I moved to the other side of the coop to tend to the chickens and collect their eggs. I knew each chicken well, and I took some small amount of pleasure in caring for them, though I had learned at an early age not to grow too attached.

By the time I returned to the kitchen, the fire was burning well in the large fireplace that dominated the northern wall. A large worktable, heavily scratched from years of use, occupied the space under two large windows. Shelves loaded with dishes, cooking implements, and food stores lined another wall.

I had learned to cook from the wizard's ghostly spirit servants that had taken care of me when I was small and taught me the skills required to take care of the wizard's day to day needs. While they had treated me as just another task they had been summoned for, the spirits proved troublesome for their summoner, requiring frequent spell re-castings to keep them under control. One by one, they had been dismissed as their charge grew old enough and strong enough to take over their duties until none were left.

Spiced apricots were soon simmering in a pot on the hearth. In turn, I cooked the batter I had prepared the night before, a few of the eggs, and two slices of ham on the griddle hung over the fire. I wrapped the resulting fluffy bread around the ham and eggs, then plated and loaded the wraps onto my serving tray. The finished apricots, a small bowl of butter, and the relevant silverware soon joined them.

I grabbed a kettle I had set by the fire to warm and a clean cloth and headed back upstairs. The wizard’s bedroom was still dark as I entered. I set the kettle down while I opened the curtains and window, filling the room with both light and fresh air. After pouring the hot water into the ewer on the dressing table, I placed the cloth down beside it. A massive bed occupied one corner, snoring emanating from behind the closed curtains. These I opened slightly before returning downstairs.

I arranged the meal on the large plank table in the dining room. While the table was large enough for ten, since my master never had visitors, Manannan was the only one who ever ate at it. Grabbing a mug and pitcher of water from a shelf holding a variety of drinkware and bottles of alcohol, I filled the mug and added it to the place setting. Last to be added was a slip of paper - the list of supplies that needed to be replenished. I then cast a critical eye over my work and, satisfied, returned the pitcher and took up my place in the corner next to the shelf, back straight and eyes down.

I had timed it well, for I had only waited for a minute before the room grew heavy with static, much like the air before an imminent thunderstorm. The strange quality to the air lasted only a moment and was followed by a slight _whoosh_ of displaced air as a black-robed figure appeared.

I stepped forward to remove the cloche that had been keeping the food warm while my master seated himself at the table. I remained silent while he ate but kept a close eye on the mug in case it needed refilling. After finishing, he reviewed the paper as he stood.

From behind or from a distance, my master appeared a fragile and elderly man. His arms and hands were gaunt, no more than bones with a thin layer of milk-pale skin stretched tight over them. While he stood tall with no stoop to his back, he was so slender it seemed as if the slightest breeze should have carried him over the mountain’s edge. That illusion of frailty vanished as he turned. While his great age was still plain in the weathered and wrinkled skin of his face, and the grayness of his hair and long beard, neither at all diminished the prodigious power shining from his black eyes that revealed his true vitality and strength. Even without looking up at him, I could feel the piercing stare he now gave me.

"Pepper and cinnamon already? Those are expensive; you’d better not be wasting them on your food."

"Of course not, sir."

The wizard made a disapproving noise as he stood but pocketed the list. "The windows are filthy. If you can't manage the simple job of keeping them clean, you obviously need to spend more time working and less time reading."

"Yes, sir." I highly doubted the windows needed cleaning; I had just washed them a week ago. But now I would have to rewash them anyway. With another _whoosh_, the wizard vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared. I stacked the breakfast dishes and headed toward the kitchen to resume the day’s work.

The day proved to be just as busy as I thought it would be, but by evening, the windows were sparkling in the last of the setting sun. The garden had been watered and thinned, the delivered supplies were prepared and stored, and the kitchen and dining room were swept, dusted, and tidy. I had taken the wizard’s evening drink to him in his study and readied his bedroom for the evening. The chickens were fed and back in the chicken coop. Now, finally, I was seated in the warm pool of light from the kitchen fireplace with my current book. Manannan let me borrow one preselected book at a time from his library. The evening hours spent perusing any and every book made available to me were precious.

It was mostly through these books that I had learned the little I knew about the world surrounding the wizard's home. Through them, I had temporarily escaped to both real countries beyond Llewdor’s borders and the fictional realms of myths and legends. I had taught myself the basics of math and physics, studied poetry and philosophy, and devoured tales of ancient heroes. Nothing escaped my interest, and the wizard didn't particularly care what I read as long as it was not remotely related to magic. Manannan was extremely secretive on that topic and threatened death if he were ever to find me having anything to do with it.

The wizard's earlier veiled threat to revoke this privilege was not new, and he had previously followed through many times. It was during one particularly long period of this dreaded punishment that I first began stealing books.

The wizard's study was off-limits unless I was explicitly ordered in to clean or deliver something to him while he worked. After a month of no books, I had given into the boredom and monotony and had disobeyed a direct order for the first time in years. I had waited until the light in the wizard's bedroom had gone out and I was as sure as I could be that Manannan was asleep. Heart pounding, I had slipped into the study and stared at the treasure trove before me. Bookcases lined three of the study walls, all nearly overflowing with books, and the wizard frequently added to them. I was familiar with most of the titles from sneaking looks while in to clean, but never before had I had my pick.

Several new titles had been intriguing, but that first time I had settled for the slightly safer choice of one my favorites. Even after Manannan finally restored my book privilege, I had continued to steal books. Every time I was sure to return the book to its place before I slipped off to bed. Not every night; I could only sacrifice so much sleep, and the clandestine visits were not without risk. But often enough that I eventually worked my way through most of the books my master never allowed me. From these, I learned a little about magic. Nothing so direct as any spells themselves, but I did find bits and pieces of how it worked in theory scattered across several books.

It had been several days since the wizard had let me exchange my current book - _Mythical Beasts_ \- and I had already read it twice. As I mindlessly flipped through its pages, I decided that I would risk another visit to the study tonight.

During the day the wizard’s office was foreboding, a place of discipline and chores. Darkness transformed it into a room full of wonder, where hundreds of titles glittered in the dim light of my candle and promised countless hours spent exploring the vastness of human knowledge.

The books I was interested in were on a bottom shelf, and I sank to my knees to see them better. _Guidebook to the Land of the Green Isles_ \- that one sounded interesting. I set my candle down to the left so that my body shielded the door from its light.As I opened the book to the first page, I noticed a dark shape just visible through the gap where the book had been. I shoved my candle closer to illuminate the space better.

The object was a lever, wedged between the bottom of the backless bookshelf and the wall. Even had the shelf been empty of books, I wouldn’t have been able to see the lever if I hadn’t been kneeling right in front of it. Whatever it was or did, it was new, and outside of the boundaries and rules I knew to be safe, and thus probably dangerous.

I swallowed. I was already taking a calculated risk by being in the study and had been for a long time. Curiosity and the excitement of something new, something outside the everyday monotony of my life, warred with my instinct to put the book back and flee.

Foolishly - fatefully - I reached out and pulled the lever.


	2. The List

June 13th, 1559

_“Fear had kept my courage in check, and now desperation had given me daring.”_

_\- Gwydion, King’s Quest Companion_

The creaking that followed pierced the night quiet, and I was sure the wizard must have noticed. I held my breath for a few seconds, waiting for any sign of the wizard waking, but I heard nothing except for the wind outside.

The source of the sound had been a trapdoor opening in the middle of the study floor. The seam, when closed, must have been cleverly hidden, for I had never noticed it even while sweeping. I looked down the dark hole but could make out nothing but the start of a narrow staircase.

It was not too late to close the trapdoor and return to bed. Before I lost my nerve, I started downward. I had only descended two steps when a dark figure flashed past, startling me. The wizard’s cat.

As far I knew, he didn't have a name since the wizard only ever referred to him as "the cat". We did not get along, as the malicious feline was always getting underfoot and had seemingly sabotaged my work on several occasions. For the most part, I did my best to ignore him.

I traced my fingers along the wall as I descended. It felt like stone, and I realized the passageway was hewn right out of the very rock of the mountain. Then I turned a corner, light flared, and with a sickening jolt, I realized where the staircase had led me. I was in a laboratory, where Manannan must do most of his magical work. I was certain now that he would be more than displeased if he found me here. Still, I had come this far already. Curiosity pushed me onward.

Torches on the wall had flickered to life as I descended the last of the stairs, spelled to light whenever someone approached. Books, liquid vials, jars of powder, and a myriad of other items filled rows of shelving. One shelf held what I suspected were bones.

A thick, heavy table, scattered with a variety of apparatus, had been pushed against one wall. A desk covered in papers filled the last of the wall space. The room was extremely dusty in the corners and in other areas not heavily used, having lacked my meticulous attention that the rest of the house received. I resisted the urge to wipe at it; I could leave no trace of my wanderings. The cat was watching me from underneath the desk, tail twitching.

A bookstand holding a thick tome was positioned in front of the worktable. The book was obviously ancient, its leather cover cracked and worn and its binding fraying at the edges. The front cover was plain other than gold-embossed letters that read _The Sorcery Of Old_. I started to reach out to open it, but a wave of uneasiness washed over me, and I drew back my hand. The longer I considered the book, the stronger the feeling became until my stomach seemed to knot in on itself and I was almost shivering with cold.

Leaving the book untouched, I instead turned to the documents on the desk. Notes on various experiments and magic spells, written in the wizard's tight hand, covered most of the pages. Untrained in magic as I was, the lengthy formulas and incantations made little sense to me. I had nearly given up finding anything interesting in the desk when I uncovered a yellowed page tucked in the back. Three neat columns covered the page:

Birth

| 

Death

| 

Country  
  
---|---|---  
  
5/5/1403

| 

6/4/1421

| 

Llewdor  
  
3/8/1420

| 

3/8/1438

| 

Serenia  
  
4/16/1437

| 

1/16/1454

| 

Lycathia  
  
4/1/1453

| 

2/17/1465

| 

Kolyma  
  
12/28/1463

| 

12/28/1481

| 

Daventry  
  
10/11/1480

| 

5/20/1495

| 

Tamir  
  
5/3/1494

| 

5/3/1512

| 

Serenia  
  
3/21/1511

| 

3/21/1529

| 

Kolyma  
  
4/12/1528

| 

7/17/1542

| 

Tamir  
  
7/18/1541

|  | 

Daventry  
  
I studied it, puzzled. Scanning down the date column, I noticed most were intervals of around eighteen years, and none more than that. As I looked at the last row again, in which the center column was blank, I felt the blood drain from my face as understanding hit me. The world started to rock back and forth in sync with the blood that now pounded in my ears.

I scanned the birth and death columns again - the births and deaths of all of the wizard’s slaves. Only the first had lived past his or her eighteenth birthday, though not much past it.

I hovered my finger over the row with the missing death date, the one that represented me. I now knew I had been born on 7/18/1541, but I wasn't sure of the current date other than it was the year 1559, sometime in early or mid-summer. 1559. 1541. The subtraction should have been simple, but I had to be doing it wrong; I kept getting eighteen.

I returned the papers to their original places and turned to survey the room. The cat was still under the desk, and I made a grab for him. One of the last things I needed was for him to be trapped down here and yowling to be let out. I missed, but he darted back up the stairs where I wanted him anyway.

Satisfied that no trace remained of my illicit visit, I turned to the staircase. The torches doused themselves as I ascended and thankfully the trapdoor was quieter closing than it had been opening.

I had seen a calendar among Manannan's things on his desk. The wizard had marked the phases of the moon, probably for some spell or another. Thinking back over the past several mornings, I judged the moon to be nearly new, which according to the calendar, would happen on June 13th. I had just over a month before my eighteenth birthday, the day my master was planning to kill me.

I had always known the wizard might kill me someday; he threatened it often enough. But as the years had passed with Manannan failing to carry through, I had told myself that if I was careful, obeyed the wizard's rules, and sufficiently performed my chores, I could forestall that fate for many years yet.

Several sleepless hours later, I decided I wasn’t truly surprised at this revelation. I had always known, no matter how I tried to deceive myself, that my fate was sealed regardless of how obedient or hard-working I was.

And I _had_ worked hard. Every night before I slept, the house was spotless and gleaming. I had learned to make decent dishes that I served to the wizard at every meal. My master always had clean clothes and linens to use. But the wizard's constant criticisms and punishments for the smallest mistakes had made me extremely critical of my work. Nothing had ever been good enough - _I_ had never been good enough. And when the wizard had dismissed the last of the ghost servants, leaving me alone, I had almost welcomed that fate.

Eventually, although the worst of that bitterness passed, it seemed as if some part of me was left behind. I no longer daydreamed about my parents coming to rescue me, or the wizard setting me free. I took less enjoyment from reading about a wider world I knew I would never experience.

It was with these dark thoughts and memories that I finally drifted off near dawn for a few minutes of troubled sleep.

It wasn't until the next morning while hurriedly making breakfast - for I had overslept - that I remembered the last column on the wizard's record.

Daventry. The name bounced around my head as if eager to be said aloud and make my distant homeland seem more real. I had read of Daventry; it was one of several small countries on the southern portion of the Serenian continent. Daventry was the most famous of them for it was said that the kings there had long possessed several magic treasures the kept the kingdom safe and prosperous.

A spark of my old curiosity about my parents, for so long buried deep, flickered back to life. As a child, I had learned through my books that most children had them. I had longed to ask about mine, but questions were dangerous, particularly those not related to my work. It had taken some time, but eventually, my curiosity had driven me to gather my courage and ask. I had even naively asked if Manannan was my father. But Manannan would not tolerate any discussion of where I came from.

"I am not. I am your master, and you are here to work, not bother me with useless questions," the wizard had responded, and he had been swift to deliver a punishment to drive home the lesson. I had learned to hold my tongue, and never again did I mention my parents to the wizard.

But I had continued to wonder. How had I ended up with the wizard? Were my parents dead, killed by his hand? Had they never cared for me at all, and sold me into slavery? Or did they even now wonder where their stolen son was? Every scenario had played out in my head countless times until I decided that even in my private thoughts, it was a question better left alone.

If I went to Daventry, maybe I would finally be able to find out the answer…

I tossed the sausages I had been holding into the pot with more force than necessary. That was a stupid thought. I had never even left the mountaintop, and never would.

But I couldn't stop the return of the old daydreams of finally meeting them, of having someone smile at me the way the parents in my books smiled at their children.

Then I cursed, repeating one of the wizard's favorites, as I smelled burning meat and realized the sausages had started to burn. I had been standing there like the idiot my master always claimed me to be, staring into space. And I didn't have time to cook more, though I did my best to brush off the worst of the burnt part.

Fortunately, the wizard seemed preoccupied during breakfast with some papers he had brought. I was grateful for this unexpected reprieve and was careful not to let my mind wander as I attended the wizard. But later, as I was eating my own breakfast in the kitchen, my thoughts returned to what I had learned the previous night.

The renewed longing to know my parents had banished any thought of resigning myself to the wizard's fate for me. My desire to live suddenly burned bright, and my unease grew closer to panic with each second that slipped by, each one bringing my birthday closer as it passed. The bite of bread I had just taken turned to dust in my mouth, and it took me several tries and a few gulps of water to get it down. I set the rest of my bread back down on my plate. I was going to die.

Unless I did something about it.

For too long, I had been trained to obey perfectly and without question. I repulsed the thought. I couldn't - I would be caught and punished or even killed.

Except I was going to be killed anyway. What did I have to lose? The air around me became hot and suffocating as I gave the idea more serious consideration. I had already risked sneaking into the laboratory on little more than a foolhardy whim. But this was different; I was now actively scheming to defy my master permanently.

_Daventry_…

I would do it, I decided, anxiety settling in my stomach like lead and threatening to force back up the little I had eaten. Except I wasn't sure what "it" was.

Briefly, I considered just running away, finding passage on a ship to Daventry. But the wizard had promised that he'd be able to find me if I ever tried that, no matter how far away I managed to get before the wizard realized I was gone. And I believed him.

No, I couldn’t just run away. I would have to take care of the wizard somehow, incapacitate him so that he couldn’t follow me. And that seemed about as possible as Manannan simply giving me my freedom or him conveniently dropping dead from old age.

Then I remembered what else I had found in the wizard’s laboratory - _The Sorcery Of Old_. If I could find some spell in it, fight the magic that had kept me here for so long with magic of my own, maybe I had a chance. A slim one. Even if I found a spell that would be of use against the wizard, it would have to be one someone as inexperienced as I could perform. And there would still be a host of other problems. I would have to get whatever ingredients the spell required, and that meant - my stomach flipped at the thought and I really did almost lose my breakfast this time- going down the mountain if I couldn't find them in the wizard's house.

I would probably have to find the wizard's wand - the scant information I had picked up about magic from purloined books told me that much. Performing magic without a wand as my master did required years of experience, and even he still needed the aid of his wand when casting more powerful magic. I had a vague notion that it might be in one of the locked cabinets in the study, but I didn't know where the key was.

And I would have to do all of this without the wizard having even the faintest idea I was plotting against him.

"Gwydion!" My master's voice boomed magically in my ears, making me jump guiltily. "Come to my study.” His tone suggested displeasure, and I internally sighed as I rose. The burnt sausage hadn't gone unnoticed after all.


	3. The Sorcery Of Old

June 14th-June 18th, 1559

_“Your hands shake as you realize this book could be the key to your escape from the evil Manannan.”_

_\- Narrator, King’s Quest III_

I stood before the wizard’s desk, back straight and eyes on the floor as I listened to the scratching of his pen. The wizard thought himself a great scholar and spent hours at his desk reading, writing, and studying a great variety of subjects. From the glance I’d gotten walking in, he seemed to be working on a long letter or a treatise of some sort. It was several minutes before he finished his writing and finally acknowledged me.

“Do I not keep you sufficiently clothed and fed; provide you with a warm bed to sleep in?” he asked as he shuffled his papers.

“You do, sir.”

“And is it too much to ask that you, in return, provide me with clean clothes and decent meals?”

“Not at all.”

“Then tell me why I was served something so inedible. I might have expected such when you were much younger and still learning, but at your age now, I can only assume it to be an insult.”

“Of course I meant no insult, sir. I was not paying sufficient attention; my apologies.”

“Then plainly you need some help keeping your attention on your cooking duties.”

I did not look up but knew the wizard’s hands would now be in motion. I heard not a word but felt a pressure tighten around my jaw. I would be able to drink water, but the invisible barrier would keep me from eating anything for a day or so.

“Leave. I trust your other work today will be done with more care.”

“Yes, sir,” I acknowledged. I had already resigned myself to the situation by the time I left the room; I had more pressing matters on my mind.

The day dragged slowly by, but at last, the wizard was asleep and I was creeping silently back into the study. Having a plan and acting on it made me feel a little better; not calm, exactly, but focused and determined rather than panicked.

I opened the trapdoor, wincing at the noise, and examined where it met the floor to find the opening mechanism. A few moments work with the rag and grease I had brought ensured it would operate more quietly in the future. Since the wizard teleported everywhere, I was more concerned about the noise than my repair being noticed.

Down in the laboratory, I opened _The Sorcery Of Old_. The cold and uneasiness returned just as strong as the last time. Gritting my teeth, I tugged the ancient tome open and flippedthrough the pages.

I was immediately disheartened. Most of the book’s spells were in languages I didn’t understand, though some of the accompanying images indicated their purpose in all too much detail. It wasn’t until the end of the book that I finally found a section written in my own tongue.

Spells for calling great storms, for making the caster temporarily invisible, and for talking with animals were intriguing but not helpful. Then my breath caught as I read the title of the next spell:

Transforming Another Into A Cat

Ingredients:

½ cup mandrake root powder

1 small ball of cat fur

2 spoonfuls of fish oil

1 magic wand

Directions:

I. Put mandrake root powder in bowl

II. Put the cat hair in the bowl

III. Put 2 spoons of fish oil in bowl

IV. Stir mixture with a spoon [dough will be oily]

V. Put the dough on the table

VI. Pat dough into a cookie [let harden on table]

VII. Recite this verse:

Mandrake root and hair of cat

Mix oil of fish and give a pat

A feline from the one who eats

This appetizing magic treat

VIII. Wave the magic wand

You have just created a cookie that, when eaten, will turn the victim into a cat.

Forever!

My hands trembled from more than just the cold as I scanned the list of ingredients. The last vestiges of my earlier confidence vanished as a mixed wave of both trepidation and excitement washed over me.

The cat fur was easy. I wasn’t as sure about mandrake root powder or fish oil, though.

I glanced through the rest of the book, but none seemed nearly as promising as the cat spell. I shut the book and spent several minutes methodically checking every vial and container on the shelves. While I found mandrake root powder in a small green vial, fish oil was nowhere to be found.

I sat down on the bottom step of the staircase, rubbing my arms to warm myself back up as I thought. I would have to obtain fish oil somehow. My master did sometimes provide me with fish to cook, probably bought from the port town below us, but I hadn't a clue how one extracted the oil.

Heart racing faster, I considered a venture to the town below. They might have fish oil, but it would also be incredibly risky. I would have to wait for my master to leave the mountain on a trip longer than the wizard’s weekly supply runs. This didn’t happen often, and I never knew where Manannan went or exactly how long he would be absent. Generally, though, such a trip most of the day, and even more rarely, overnight.

It would be possible, I thought, to reach the town and return in such a timeframe. Probably. And that was assuming that the mountain path down was even passable. It hadn’t been used in my lifetime, and presumably for much longer than that. I rubbed my temple with one hand, abruptly exhausted. And hungry. Fish oil and the path would have to be problems for another day; for now, I could do little more than wait.

As I fell asleep that night, I indulged myself in spending a minute trying to imagine my master as a harmless feline. I had a hard time picturing it.

Every breakfast I dared to hope that Manannan would announce that he was leaving only to be disappointed. The facial barrier he had inflicted on me faded, and I managed not to earn myself any more punishments. Outwardly I continued my life as I always had, but inwardly my thoughts raced as I scrubbed floors and wiped down baseboards. My imagination ran wild, fed from the pieces of the outside world I had gathered from the wizard, his books, and the telescope in the tower.

Manannan used the telescope to spy on the people below and ensure they followed his rules. From the time I had been big enough to sneak my kitchen stool up the tower steps to stand on, I had also spied on the world below. There I caught glimpses of the world forbidden to me. I suspected the telescope was magical in some way, but without knowing the magic required to access its more arcane properties, it was just a telescope to me.

During his spying sessions, the wizard often grumbled to himself about people ignoring his curfew or trying to evade paying the taxes they owed in return for his protection of the town. The townspeople were his favorite thing to complain about, other than me.

“Humanity,“ he told me, “is intolerable. Completely untrustworthy and wretched. You’re better off up here, where you don’t have to deal with them as I do.”

My books painted a different story. That there were cruel and selfish people, yes, but also kind and generous ones too. That people were far more complex and worthwhile than the wizard would have me believe. How much of my reading was mere fiction, and how much of the wizard’s lectures were lies?

At night I scoured my master’s history texts for any mention of Daventry. I didn’t find much aside from more rumors of its powerful artifacts and the fact that Daventry exported a lot of grain. Daventry had never been a significant player in the politics of the world, and when the region was discussed, it was usually lumped in with the rest of the small countries of the area. These countries were at war more often than they were at peace, and the fact that Daventry had survived for so long did credit to the rumors.

A more recent text noted that Daventry’s much larger neighbor Serenia had been forced to find a new source for grain, as Daventry had suddenly been unable to fulfill their trade agreements. The only other mention I could find worth reading was an entry in a travelogue dated nearly fifty years ago:

_3/9/1502 - Daventry_

_My father has long recommended to me that should I find myself traveling through the southern countries of the Serenian continent, Daventry is not one to be missed. Aside from the beautiful landscapes and pleasant people, he claimed it to be the safest and most stable part of the region. Sadly, this does not seem to be true any longer. While still beautiful, war finally looms large on the horizon, and every town I pass through seems more miserable than the last. The people have started to lose faith in their ruler, King Edward, and several have spoken to me about dark creatures that have begun haunting the woods. Overall, I shall be glad to leave Daventry behind._

Daventry was still clearly marked in an atlas dated near fifteen years later, so even if a war had indeed come to my homeland, it must have survived to some extent. I hoped it had managed to return to its former state of prosperity, but could find no further evidence as to whether it had or not.

Several days passed before Manannan finally sent me to fetch his traveling cloak. The instant Manannan had vanished, I rushed to clear the breakfast dishes and to start the rest of the day’s work.

I was supposed to be doing a small wash today. The larger wash, which took several days to do, was not for a couple more weeks. I dragged the laundry tub out from a corner of the courtyard. After filling it with water, I ran upstairs. Like the wizard’s study, I was only to be in the room long enough to clean and tidy.

The bed was swathed in warm blankets still rumpled and tangled from the previous night. I yanked them and the pillows to the floor and stripped the sheets from the bed, throwing them into a basket by the door that already held the dirty laundry. I shook out the feather bed and remade it with fresh sheets. I emptied the ewer and chamber pot, trimmed the candles, and straightened out the wizard’s dressing table.

Done with my normal tasks, I took a breath to slow myself down and began a systematic search of the room. Primarily I was hoping to find the key to the locked cabinets in the study. Coin, too, I would need, to buy the fish oil. I had already searched the rest of the house during the deep of night, and the wizard’s bedroom and the cabinet were the last hiding places I could think of to look for both wand and coin.

A search under the bed and behind the other furniture failed to yield any more secret levers. I had no more success with the jumble of items stashed in various drawers, most of which I had seen before but hadn’t dared inspect too carefully. Half-filled potion bottles, scraps of paper with scribbled notes, and broken quills cluttered the drawers not allocated to clothing.

Books and more papers were scattered haphazardly underneath the wizard’s robes hung in the wardrobe. I glanced through these, and one large sheet titled Llewdor caught my eye. I pulled it out and held it up to the window to get a better look. A map of Llewdor was faintly inked onto the page, so faint I could barely see it. As old as that indicated the map to be, I decided to take it anyway - I doubted Llewdor had changed enough to render it completely obsolescent. I could put it back before the wizard returned, though I also highly doubted he would even notice it missing.

I looked around the room one last time, trying to find anywhere I hadn’t yet searched. After removing my boots, I stood on the wizard’s bed. From this vantage point, I could see the top of the wardrobe, and my thoroughness was rewarded with a glint of gold among a thick layer of dust. The key!

Boots back on, I took the stairs down two at a time despite the awkwardness of the large basket of washing I carried. I abandoned it at the entrance to the wizard’s study. The key slid smoothly into the lock of one cabinet and with a soft _snick,_ the door unlocked. More books.

Then, with relief, I spotted the ivory wand with its dark walnut handle. I took it in one hand, half expecting it to repulse me in some way, but nothing happened. The handle was smooth with no decorations; I would have thought it innocuous and mundane save for the power I knew it would enable me to wield. Respectfully, I returned it to its place and searched the rest of the cabinet, but found nothing else of interest and no coin with which to buy fish oil. The other cabinets yielded similar results. I returned the key to where I had found it.

Even hurrying and sorting out what could wait until the larger wash, laundry was not a quick task. It took longer than I would have liked to beat, scrub, and wring out everything. But eventually it was all laid out to dry, I had finished my other morning tasks, and I stood staring at the start of the forbidden mountain path.


	4. Llewdor

June 18th, 1559

_“I drank of the world I had never known.”_

_-Gwydion, King’s Quest Companion_

Countless hours had been spent daydreaming about secretly visiting the countryside below. And now I would make those dreams a reality if I could but take the first step down. Instead, I stood paralyzed by an old memory.

The wizard had called me into his study. A cage sat on his desk, a pretty bird with blue feathers fluttering around inside. He had let me watch it for several minutes, entranced and delighted by its small movements. Then he had cast a spell and one small jet of silvery magic later, the cage held nothing but ash. A warning, he had said, as to what would happen if I ever attempted escape.

I pushed the memory away. If that was to be my fate, then so be it, but I would experience the world below first.

I stepped forward, and nothing happened as I rounded the first corner. If my master had been alerted to my leaving, there was no sign. The ground below my feet was mostly stone and gravel, so I left no footprints behind to betray me.

There were no trees; in fact, I saw no plant life at all. At times, the path followed the natural lines of the mountain, but other parts cut directly into the stone. The latter zigzagged down in tight hairpin turns. It took me over an hour to pick my way carefully down, and I was so focused on my feet that the sudden change from gravel to grass took me by surprise. I looked up to a sight that stopped me short.

The little garden I tended paled significantly to the expanse of life around me now. The woodland was sparse, allowing the midmorning sun to stream down between the towering trees. Flowers grew in the larger clearings of sunlight, dotting the long grasses that swayed slightly in the breeze with bright reds and yellows.

I wandered, my destination temporarily forgotten. Every small detail seemed to demand my attention. The dappled shadows formed by the branches as I walked beneath them. The hundred different shades of green, and the hundred more of brown. The flash of blue as a bird darted by, and a few seconds later, his bright birdsong. The burble of a small stream I stumbled across. Each was a small thread woven together with a thousand others to create a far more intricate beauty than that of the grand but distant landscape I saw every day.

The further I moved from the mountain, the more my spirits lifted. It was as if an oppressive fog was being cleansed away from my mind, bit by bit with every step. Almost, I feared I had strayed into a dream; but then, could I have ever imagined how the rustling of leaves sounded as if the trees whispered to each other? The swiftness of a darting fish, or how bright its scales flashed in the sunlight? The sheer wildness of it all? I could have spent days here without ever growing tired of it, and for an exhilarating moment, I imagined myself simply walking further into the forest and never returning. But even the enchantment of this foreign world, no matter how bright and sunny, was darkened with the ever-present mountain at my back. I instead turned my feet to follow the stream toward Port Bruce.

I had followed the stream almost to the town when I noticed a feather half stuck in the muddy bank. It was a graceful looking thing, dark brown in the middle and white at the tips. It was also large; too large to have belonged to any of the smaller birds I had spotted on my hike. I was reasonably sure it was an eagle feather - I had watched the majestic birds fly below me all my life and had once seen one up close when it had tried to attack the wizard’s chickens.

I picked the feather up and gently brushed off the dried mud. I had brought the bag I usually used to haul firewood; I carefully placed the feather in it alongside the map from the wizard’s wardrobe. One of the spells I had read mentioned an eagle feather, and even if I ended up not needing such a spell, the feather was a beautiful keepsake.

As I watched the town from the edge of the forest, the excitement I had felt at finally being out exploring left me. The wizard’s house, which had seemed unbearably wearisome and confining mere moments before, was suddenly preferable to the foreignness of the houses and people before me. I did not know if my existence was known to anyone but my master. Would anyone know who I was? Would they inform Manannan?

I closed my eyes and retreated for several moments to my reading place by the kitchen hearth. The house was quiet except for the crackling of the fire and the whisper of paper against paper as I turned the pages of my book. The warm firelight pooled around me and warred with the dancing shadows at the other end of the room. The slightly musty book I held was a familiar, comforting weight in my hands, its scrawled words so much more than just ink on a page.

I opened my eyes, returning to the reality around me, feeling a little calmer. I could do this. I had to do this.

A large section of forest had been cleared around the town and replaced with farmland. I could see men working the fields as I crossed them, but none looked my way. I slipped between two houses, one of which had boards nailed across its windows and doors. The windows on the other were exposed and broken, rimmed with jagged teeth of glass that reminded me of the broken mirror in my room.

The street beyond was empty as I turned toward the docks, heart pounding. A man rounded a street corner, and I tensed as he walked toward me. But the stranger ignored me and had soon passed. The few others I encountered as I walked seemed intent on their own errands, though one or two gave me lingering looks as they hurried on their way. I did my best not to stare back at them or my surroundings. I felt conspicuous in my ragged and ill-fitted clothing, and I feared my identity was plain to any who saw me.

Another man, leaned against his doorway as he smoked, watched me as I passed. He did not seem friendly, and I kept my eyes down and quickened my pace.

As familiar as I was with the town’s layout, the new perspective made navigating it more difficult than I would have thought. Eventually, though, I reached the docks where two ships lay berthed. There was a rhythmic crashing sound, and it took me a moment to place it as waves hitting the shoreline. A few stores bordering a burned-down warehouse were still open for business, but I eschewed these in favor of a larger building on the opposite side of the docks. The sign out front read simply, “Tavern”. I paused for a moment outside, then opened the door.

The place was clean, with neatly arranged tables and benches filling most of the space. Wall decorations hung straight and proud, and bottles of alcohol gleamed on shelves behind the bar.

The only occupant was a young woman behind the bar, head down as she wiped down the counter. Her yellow hair was bound up in a handkerchief, and she wore a simple cotton dress underneath her apron. She was also the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. All the tales I had read of heroes embarking on perilous quests for the sakes of their sweethearts suddenly made sense to me, and the courage I had gathered outside fled. I froze, torn between continuing forward or back to the door.

"What can I get you?" she asked before I could decide, still not looking up as she dabbed at a particularly stubborn spot.

"Oh - I was...“ I started, but my voice was rough, and my words came out half mangled. I couldn’t recall the last time I had spoken anything more than a “Yes, sir.” I cleared my throat and tried again.

“I was wondering if -" I said clearly this time, if nervously, “if you had any jobs you need help with?"

"I don't know…" She said as she finally looked up and saw me for the first time. Her face softened. "Well… my grandmother could use some help with the food for tonight. My name's Liliana."

“Thank you, si-” I cut myself off as I nearly misspoke from habit. She led me through a door behind the bar and into the kitchen.

An older woman was seated at a table, cutting vegetables. A small child stopped his play at her feet to stare up at me, a stare I did my best to ignore. The child seemed so small; I could scarcely believe I myself had once been no bigger.

"Grandma, this young man offered to help with tonight's dinner."

Her grandmother didn't reply. She too was staring at me, though with less wonder and more suspicion.

"I thought he could bring in the firewood and help with the -"

"No,” the older woman said, alarm in her voice.

"But -"

"That's _his_ boy. One of the others, he came to town too, when I was a girl. Tried to get passage on a ship, but the wizard found him first. Killed him right there, and promised to do the same to anyone who helped him, or even spoke of him to anyone."

Liliana paled. "I'm sorry. I think it best if you left now. We won’t tell anyone," she assured me as she scooped up the young boy still watching with wide eyes.

I nodded and turned to go. As I reached toward the door at the front of the tavern, it opened to reveal the man I had seen smoking outside his house. I quickly moved to the side to let him pass, eyes down, glancing back at him only at the last second as I slipped through the door. The considering look he was giving was unsettling.

I had no better luck finding employment at the next two stores that I tried, either for coin or the goods I sought. The first storekeeper merely shook his head and said, “Sorry, son. Can barely afford to pay the one errand boy I already have, these days, much less be giving out merchandise.”

The second one scowled at me and ordered me to leave, and I had “better not even think of stealing anything on the way out.” Not that I hadn’t considered it, but I wasn’t yet desperate enough to risk being caught and turned over to the wizard.

Discouraged, exhausted, and worried about the long climb ahead of me, I left Port Bruce. My first venture into society had not been a successful one. A bleak mood and bitter thoughts plagued me and the hike back to the base of the mountain seemed interminable, a stark contrast to the enchantment of that morning’s walk.

One particularly narrow turn in the mountain path was especially dangerous. The mountain rose up on one side, but on the other, there was only a short section of scree-covered slope ending in a sudden precipice. As I tried to negotiate the narrowest part, only a handbreadth wide, the stone underneath my foot crumbled and I was suddenly sliding toward the edge. I frantically threw myself forward, but it wasn’t enough; I was still slipping, and now there was nothing but air beneath my feet. My hands scrabbled at the gravel beneath me as I slid yet further. Then, miraculously, I stopped.

Ever so slowly, I brought one knee up and gingerly put my weight on it. One or two pieces of gravel rolled down, but no more than that. I repeated the motion with my other leg, and again, the gravel held. I reached up and managed to place one hand and then the other on the path. With great effort, I wrenched myself up and over the edge, ignoring the protesting of my back as the motion pulled painfully on scarred skin and muscle.

I scrambled to a safer part of the path and laid against the rock there as the terror slowly passed. After a couple of minutes, I felt composed enough to take stock. I had lost a fair amount of skin from my fingers and hands, my back ached abominably, and one pant leg had a gaping hole where the fabric had torn free from the knee patch, but I was alive. At least for now.


	5. A Change Of Plans

June 18th \- June 26th, 1559

_“In an instant, all was lost.”_

_-Gwydion, King’s Quest Companion_

As soon as I arrived back at the house, I went straight to my bed and kneeled beside it. I had spent a fair amount of time in my room as a young child, enough to have discovered one of the floorboards under the bed was loose. Once I had worked it free, I had a shallow, empty area in which to hide what few things I had to call my own. Little figures made from twigs and bits of twine, an acorn found still attached to a bundle of kindling, and oddly shaped rocks littered the space. I shoved aside these childhood playthings and in their place put the eagle feather before returning the floorboard.

Then it was to Manannan’s room to return the map to the wizard’s wardrobe and to the kitchen to start a quick dinner. While it simmered, I gathered and folded the now dry laundry and gave a slightly more thorough effort toward the other chores I had rushed through earlier. I could see no reason the wizard should suspect anything out of the ordinary. If the wizard noticed my scrapes from my near fall,I would say I had tripped and fallen out in the courtyard.

But Manannan said little to me when he returned home that evening. His trip must have gone well, for he seemed to be in a good mood, and that evening and the following days went smoothly as far as he was concerned. My fear that he would somehow discover my infractions lessened as I slipped back into the routine of my daily life.

I had once watched the struggles of a fly caught in a spider’s web I had been about to clear away. It hadn’t been long before the spider rushed over to wrap its prey in tight webbing. I felt as if I too was caught in such a web, every order and every chore another sticky strand that grew tighter with each passing day, and this time I could not simply brush away the web as I had the real one.

I thought, too, of the list of my predecessors. The worn state of my clothes and bedroom, and overheard comments among the ghost servants had hinted of them, but I had never had such solid evidence as that piece of paper. It was almost a little comforting, to know that in a way at least, I was not alone. I promised myself I would make my plan work. Not just for myself, but for them as well, and to keep any more from falling to the same fate.

_And who are you, to succeed where so many before you have failed?_

It was a thought I did my best to ignore, just I tried to ignore the worry that the wizard would not leave on such a journey again. Should I have attempted to steal the fish oil? Should I risk a night journey?

I told myself I still had time; that I could ill afford a wrong move. But every day the wizard did not leave was a test for even my hard-learned patience. I had not cared much for the town, with all its people and staring eyes and uncertainty, but the woods I longed to return to. My hike there had been a glimpse of not only freedom but something else I couldn’t name, something Imight find if I could only visit there again.

I was, at least, able to make some small progress during my wait. I managed to corner the cat while Manannan was out on his weekly supply trip; not an easy feat, but in the end, I managed to exchange several scratches for a small tuft of short black fur.

At last, a week later, the wizard finally informed me he would be leaving after the noon meal. The moment he was gone, I rushed through as much as I could in raiding the house. From the kitchen, I took my firewood bag. In the dining room, I selected a few pieces of the wizard’s silverware. It had occurred to me while polishing them that week that Manannan had quite a few valuable items in his house. If I again could not find work, I would try to sell or trade the silverware. If that failed, then I would have to risk stealing the fish oil itself. I _had_ to obtain it today, somehow.

From the wizard’s bedroom, I retrieved the key and map. I hadn’t needed the map last time, but I felt more comfortable having it with me. As I was putting it in his bag, I noticed a small blot of color on the map. That hadn’t been there before, had it? I unfolded it. Most of the map was has it had been, the black ink faded and barely visible. But two small swathes were now quite readable and brightly colored. Both swathes started at the base of the mountain and wound their way through the forest. Both ended at the town, but one was a much more direct line between the two points than the other. They must match the paths I had taken to and back from the town.

I pondered the map for a few seconds, then continued storing it in my bag, careful not to touch the colored portions. It might turn out that the map would be far more useful than I had thought at first.

Here, too, I grabbed a half-filled bottle of rose petal essence and an empty vial tucked away into the back of a drawer filled with clutter. From my room, I fetched back the eagle feather and a dead fly I had found while sweeping. Instead of throwing it in the rubbish bin like I usually would have, I had hidden it alongside the feather. Now I carefully pinched off the delicate wings and placed them in the empty vial before disposing of the body.

With this odd assortment of items softly clinking together in my bag, I entered the study and added the wizard’s wand to my load, then descended to his laboratory. There I searched among the bookshelves until I found the last item I needed, a vial of saffron. I wasn’t sure if I needed the feather and fly wings for this part, but better to be safe; I laid them out alongside the saffron, rose petal essence, and magic wand. I knew enough of magic to know that what I planned was dangerous - screwing up even simple spells could have disastrous consequences.

The cold returned as I reopened _The Sorcery Of Old_ to the spell titled “Flying Like An Eagle Or A Fly”. I double-checked the ingredients and reviewed the steps required. The spell was a straightforward one; I couldn’t have asked for an easier one as my first bit of magic. I was more concerned that the wand would not work for me or that I simply didn’t have the ability to do magic.

I took a steadying breath and began. I added a pinch of saffron to the rose petal essence bottle and gently shook it. Then I picked up the wand and in a clear voice, I recited “Oh winged spirits, set me free of earthly bindings, just like thee. In this essence, behold the might to grant the precious gift of flight.”.

A strange warmth washed over me as I waved the magic wand over the bottle, banishing the book’s chill. I felt lighter - as if gravity had suddenly lessened and I was almost surprised to look down and find my boots still firmly planted on the floor. Then it was gone, and the chill returned, but the rose essence in my hand was glowing.

I let out the pent breath I hadn’t been aware of holding, relieved. I could do magic, and it had been easy! Assuming the spell actually worked, but I felt far more confident now that if I could get the ingredients, I would be able to perform the cat cookie spell. And now I had a way up and down the mountain that didn’t involve the deathtrap path.

I closed the book and stowed all my items except for the wand in my bag; the wand I would return to the cabinet before leaving. Mind busy with the logistics of my plan, I started the ascent back upstairs.

Maybe if I hadn’t been so distracted, I would have noticed the glow of a cat’s eyes, but I didn’t. The first I was aware of the wizard’s cat was my foot suddenly colliding with something soft, and I stumbled, bashing into one wall and just barely catching myself before I tumbled back down the stairs. I glanced up and two green, almond-shaped eyes stared back. I had the strong feeling that he had tried to trip me on purpose. I mentally cursed him but automatically refrained from voicing it; Manannan had not been pleased to hear the insults the wizard routinely threw at me repeated at his pet, though I didn't think Manannan cared about the animal at all.

I stored the wand in my bag so I could make a two-handed grab for the troublesome feline, but the cat dodged my grasp, continuing down the steps. It took me several minutes and several more mental curses before I managed to wrangle him back up the stairs. Even with the time spent chasing him, no more than twenty minutes had passed since I had opened the trapdoor. I closed it and walked outside. I had intended to turn into an eagle and fly down the mountain. Instead, I tugged out the map. Slowly I touched the area right at the base of the mountain, where the color first appeared.

When I was small, Manannan would sometimes teleport me to my locked room to keep me out of the way. Later on, this changed from my room to the kitchen, usually ending with me upside down and magically attached to the rafters for a short time as a more creative punishment. As with those teleportations, my stomach twisted unpleasantly, and I was suddenly a bit dizzy, but I found both sensations a small price to pay when I looked up from the map. I was safely at the base of the mountain, right where the colored spot I touched had been on the map.

Finally, a piece of luck! Bracing myself, I touched the little house drawn at the top of the mountain, but nothing happened. I tried a different spot on the uncolored map, but it was as I suspected - the teleportation only worked on colored areas, and my master’s house was not colored. Perhaps there was some protective spell on the house that prevented the map from working there, but whatever the reason, the map would only return me to the base of the mountain. Still, even with this limitation, the map was a huge boon.

I was folding the map back up and stuffing it into my bag when I became aware of soft footfalls behind me. I had turned only halfway around when the blow hit.

I didn't quite pass out, but still crumpled to the ground, dazed. As I tried to make sense of why I was suddenly lying on my side, and why the back of my head hurt so much, I felt my bag strap moving. I groaned softly as my head was jostled from the strap being dragged out from beneath me.

“He’s awake, Davis.” The voice came from behind me. Then whoever the voice belonged to seized a handful of my shirt and pulled. “Up, on your knees,” the voice commanded.

I obeyed as best I could, and once I had struggled upright, the grip on my shoulder tightened. Another man was standing a few paces in front of me, investigating the contents of my bag. The man looked vaguely familiar.

“That’s a mighty fine trick you did there, just appearin’ out of nowhere.” Davis’s voice was pleasant-sounding, a stark contrast to my master's rough tone. Even so, there was something about the man that almost sent a shiver down my back. Suddenly I recognized him as the one who had passed me in the tavern.

Then the shiver turned into a tidal wave of cold sweeping through me as Davis pulled out my master’s wand. How could I be so stupid? I had let myself get distracted chasing the cat around and had forgotten entirely to return the wand to its cupboard.

Davis had been watching my reaction. He dropped the bag on the ground said, “I’m guessin’ you aren’t supposed to be running around down here, heh?” He paused but carried on when I gave no response. “And I’m guessin’ this, and that silverware doesn’t exactly belong to you.” He turned his gaze from me and grinned at the man holding my shoulder, twiddling the wand around in his fingers.

As he continued, I took notice of my bag on the ground, not looking directly at it but out of the corner of my eye. The map was sitting on top of the contents inside, one edge protruding out. Davis continued, “And that the wizard will be rather appreciative of us returnin’ his wand and runaway, thievin’ servant. Tie him up.”

I twisted suddenly. While scrawny, my work had left me with a strength that took the man holding me by surprise, and I lunged forward out of the man’s grasp. I half fell on top of my bag, grabbing it with one hand and pressing the entire palm of my other against the map, not caring where the map took me as long wasn’t here. There was a shout from someone, but it was too late, I was already feeling the familiar twisting of my stomach as I teleported.

I appeared in another patch of woods with my bag still held firmly in my grip. I twisted around onto my back, but neither Davis or his cohort were anywhere to be he seen.

I closed my eyes and rested my head back down on the ground. A moment later I opened them to stare up at a clear sky pierced by Manannan’s mountain. From this angle, I couldn’t see Manannan’s house, but I could almost feel it, a threat literally looming above my head that had just become far more dire than it had been moments ago. Davis and his friend still had the wand, and judging by the sun I had at most six or so hours to return it and myself to my master’s house. And even if by some miracle I managed that, Davis had still correctly guessed who I was. Manannan would be going to town the next day for our supplies. Would Davis still approach the wizard without me or the wand? I had a strong suspicion that the answer was yes.

I couldn’t wait for my birthday anymore. I had to finish my plan by tomorrow morning.


	6. Hideout

June 26th, 1559

_“As always, I had nothing to lose.”_

_-Gwydion, King’s Quest Companion_

After spending a minute berating myself for forgetting the wand in the first place, I took a few deep breaths. Focusing on my mistake wouldn’t get me anywhere; I needed to concentrate on a solution. First, the wand.

As I considered returning to the house where I had first seen Davis, I heard voices in the distance. I rolled onto my hands and knees and crawled a few paces away, behind some nearby underbrush. The voices were drawing closer, and I recognized Davis’ voice.

“- doesn’t matter.”

“Don’t like it. Without the boy, what’s to say the wizard doesn’t just zap us for stealin’ his wand?”

“We tell him the truth, we’ve seen him sneakin’ around here, usin’ that magic map.”

“Still don’t like it. Truth to tell, gives me the chills every time we meet with him. Best not to push too far, you ask me.”

“Well didn’t ask you, did I? Stay out of it if you want. But if you’re too scared to do your job, there’s-” Davis’ voice became too quiet to hear as the pair walked off toward town.

I counted to fifteen, then headed in the same direction, traveling from tree to tree and keeping as far back as I could while still keeping them within sight. After a couple of minutes trailing them, they reached the edge of the woods. I hadn’t realized how close to town I had teleported. I had far less cover as they crossed the fields surrounding Port Bruce, but neither looked back.

I followed them to the docks where they entered Liliana’s tavern. Crouching underneath an open window on one side of the building, I could hear people talking, but could only make out a word here and there.

Time to find out if my spell really worked. I unstoppered the glass vial with the fly wings and poured them into my hand, cupping them so that they didn’t get blown away. It was a delicate process to get the tiny things dipped in the rose petal essence, but once I did, they glowed the same soft pink color as the essence.

The glow spread from the wings to my fingertips, then across my hand. Moving quicker now, it spread up my arms. Except my arms weren’t arms anymore, they were black sticks, and my hands, the vial, and the wings had all vanished. At almost the same time, the world warped and expanded around me. My whole body felt constricted, and I nearly panicked as the air was pushed from my lungs and I was unable to draw in a new breath.

The tightness in my chest passed and the instinct and need to manually breathe disappeared; I was a fly. Blades of grass towered overhead, and even the closest ones appeared blurry. Beyond them, the grass was an unfocused, green blur. The colors of the world were muted; the wall of the tavern, a dark red color the moment before, was now a washed-out yellow. On the other hand, I could see almost everything behind me as well as in front.

I launched myself into the air. Flying came as naturally as if I had been doing it my whole life. I flew steadily up to and through the window. Then it was across the room to where Davis and his friend were talking with a stranger. There was a spider web in the corner above them; I stayed well away from it. Literally getting trapped in a spider web was the last thing I needed.

Davis was speaking to the stranger. “... got somthin’ new. Five of these lamps that require no fuel and produce no smoke or stink. No flint and steel required, either, just speak the word ‘light’. Fifty gold apiece.”

“Outta walk out right now, by rights,” said the stranger. “Bloody fifty gold pieces…”

“Wizard charges me forty. Apparently, they’re hard to make. Get the impression he won’t bother with ‘em again.”

“Hmm. Forty-five, and I’ll take three of ‘em pendin’ a demonstration.”

“Deal.”

The three spent a few more minutes arranging transfer of the lamps before the stranger left. So far, I had learned nothing useful and was using up valuable time as a fly.

Davis leaned back in his chair. “Good profit on that. And I expect even better on this. Here, take it back to the hideout for safe keepin’. And you see the kid, don’t lose him again!” He handed the wand to his friend, who I had overheard called Kory.

Whatever Kory replied, I didn’t hear as I was busy buzzing my way back out the window. I could feel the magic starting to wear off, and I found myself human again shortly after landing in the grass outside, vial and fly wings still in hand.

Kory was long in actually leaving the tavern, but once he finally exited, I followed him out of town and back into the woods without incident. Barely a minute into the trees, however, my luck finally ran out. A branch snapped underneath my foot, and I threw myself behind the nearest tree. I waited for a shout or approaching footsteps, sure Kory must have seen me. I heard neither, and finally, I peered around the edge of the tree. He was gone; I’d lost him.

This wasn’t going to work. Even if I managed to catch up with him, I didn’t know how much farther we were headed, and it was more luck than skill that I hadn’t yet been caught. Time for magic to help even the odds again.

I dipped the eagle feather in the rose essence. I felt the same constricting sensation as before, but this time, it did not last as long. The eagle shape was much larger than the fly shape, larger than I had expected. I leaped forward, and once again, the movement came naturally. I found an opening in the canopy of branches above large enough to accommodate my large wingspan and shot upward, breaking through to another world.

I had spent my life looking down on Llewdor, but this was entirely different. My field of vision had almost doubled. My eagle eyes could see the smallest detail of the ground below, down to the texture of the bark of the branches I passed. The whole world was more vibrant with entire new colors I had no words to describe.

For a few moments, I nearly forgot my urgent mission as I flew; it was just as captivatingas that first day descending the mountain had been. With my powerful wings I felt as if I could reach anywhere in Llewdor in mere minutes, could cross the vast desert with ease to visit distant Tamir. Except my time as an eagle was limited to my small amount of rose petal essence.

Finding Kory proved to be no trouble at all. He was still moving westward, making his way across a clearing. With as fast as I could fly now, his progress seemed ponderously slow to me. I alternated between circling above him and alighting on branches when I could easily find one large enough to support my weight.

We had trekked west of the mountain before I spotted patches of wooden planking in the leaves ahead, which proved to be a structure built in the branches of a large tree. While Kory walked to the base of the tree, I circled until I found a convenient bough overlooking one of the windows and landed.

_Eagle begone, myself return!_

My transformation back into a human while balancing on a tree branch was less than graceful, but I managed not to fall off or drop the eagle feather and vial. Barely. The vial had only a few drops worth of essence left; not enough to fly back up the mountain as I had initially planned.

The treehouse was one room with a single doorway that led to a small porch. In all, it wasn’t much bigger than my bedroom, and a table and chairs took up most of what I could see of the space. A skinny man with a mustache occupied one of the chairs.

Mustache turned to the doorway as we both heard Kory cross the porch and watched as Kory carried the wand over to the other side of the room. I heard the sounds of a chest being opened and then slammed shut.

“What’s that?”

“Ticket to a fat reward. Got it off a kid, but he used some sort of magic to get away.”

“Is that the wizard’s... You know what he’ll do, if he finds us with that? Davis might have an arrangement with him, but he’s lost it if he thinks - ”

“Shut it! We’re supposed to keep the wand here and keep an eye out until Davis can contact-”

“Yea, cause Davis might be crazy, but he’s at least got enough brains left to not be in the immediate area if the wizard does show up looking for that thing. I’m outta here, and I suggest you do the same,” Mustache said as he rose and headed for the door.

“Do what you want, but don’t be expectin’ a cut. And keep an eye out fer that kid. Scraggly black hair, scrawny, ragged look to him.”

Mustache made no reply but appeared a few seconds later below the hideout. I leaned back as far as I could until he’d walked out of sight.

Meanwhile, Kory had retrieved a flask of something and was now drinking while pushing around what I could only assume were playing cards.

I needed some distraction to get him to leave but couldn’t think of anything that would guarantee me enough time to get in and find the wand. So instead I waited and watched Kory play cards, hoping some opportunity would arise. Every so often he would swear, reshuffle the cards, and lay them out again.

My legs started to cramp. I carefully shifted position on my branch. I was acutely aware of the sun’s descent. If I managed to get the wand, I could teleport directly to town, but I needed time to barter for the fish oil and climb back up the mountain.

Kory rose suddenly and walked out the door, but my hope that he was leaving faded when instead of the sound of the ladder descending, I heard him relieving himself from the edge of the porch.

He returned inside, but instead of resuming his game, walked out of sight. I heard the chest being opened and closed again. He brought a large pouch to the table and started counting the coins inside. After returning the coins, he tossed the pouch aside.

He played a few more rounds of his card game but seemed to have lost interest in it. He muttered something about being able to play proper cards if “that coward had the guts to stay”.

He drank some more, watching out the far window as he leaned back in his chair.

A few minutes later, I realized he hadn’t touched his flask in a while. In fact, he hadn’t moved at all; he’d fallen asleep.

A lower branch provided a way down from the tree I had landed in. The tree housing the hideout was an oak tree; acorns littered the ground. I could see a rope ladder, but it was rolled up on the ledge above, out of reach.

If I had had more essence, I could have flown up as an eagle or fly, but my near-empty vial ruled that option out. Besides, there had to be a way to get the ladder down. I examined the base of the tree more closely. Tucked behind a tuft a grass, I found a small knothole. Reaching in, I felt some sort of rope hanging vertically through the middle of the tree. I tugged it.

The ladder unrolled with more noise than I would have liked, but I didn't hear any sign of Kory awakening. Keeping the map close at hand so I could escape quickly, I started up.

Kory had started snoring by the time I had clambered over the lip of the porch. I could see the chest he had stored the wand in on the other side of the room. In all my time creeping around the house at night, I had never had to sneak by the wizard with him in the same room. I barely dared breathe as I edged past Kory’s chair.

Fortunately, it wasn’t locked. I waited until Kory was in the middle of particularly loud snore before easing it open. To my huge relief, the wand was there. I placed is in the same hand as the map and gently closed the lid of the chest with the other. All I had to do now was touch the map, and I would be safely gone.

I paused to look at the pouch of money on the table, so temptingly close. It was only a step or two away, but those steps would also take me within arm’s reach of Kory. I looked at him. Still snoring away. If he woke - no. Don’t think about it, just do it.

I took the first step to the table, then the second. The pouch jingled slightly as I picked it up, but I didn’t stay long enough to look at Kory to see if the noise had woken him. As soon as I had a good enough grip on the pouch, I let my finger rest on the map, and I was gone, pulled into its magic.

The map really had become invaluable. I had teleported to a random patch of woods, rather than taking the time to locate where precisely on the map I needed to go. Now that I was well away from Davis’ hideout, I found a small, empty alley on the same street as the store with the nicer of the two storekeepers.

After a moment of dizziness after teleporting twice in such rapid succession, I opened the pouch. Most of the coins were small and copper-colored, but there were a few silver and gold ones as well. I didn’t have much reference for the cost of things, but this had to be way more than I needed. I pulled out a handful of the copper ones and a silver one and then slipped the pouch back into my bag.

A younger man I hadn’t seen before was behind the store counter, probably the son judging by the resemblance. “Evening. Just about to close up, but if you’re looking for something specific, I can grab it right quick.”

“Fish oil?” I queried, my heart squeezing in my chest. Were all the stores closing? What if this one didn’t sell it?

My worry was short-lived. He had a vial pulled from a drawer in a matter of seconds. “Three cops.”

Cops? Oh, coppers. I counted out nine of them and dropped them in his hand. “Can I get three, please?” Two extra chances to get a glass vial up that mountain without breaking it.

“You doing all right?” he asked as he retrieved the extra vials and handed all three to me.

I was dangerously close to my master finding me gone, Davis was ready to snitch as soon as he got a chance, and I still had an appointment with death on my birthday. Not to mention my entire escape plan hinging on being able to perform dark magic when I barely knew what I was doing. Not really a definition of ‘all right’.

“Yes, sir,” I said and hurried out before he could ask anything else.


	7. Repercussions

June 26th \- June 27th, 1559

_“He was brutally punished for the smallest of transgressions, whether real or imagined.”_

_-King’s Quest VI Manual_

The sun hung low in a brilliantly colored sky dotted with pink-tinged clouds. As I climbed the mountain path, I caught glimpses of it dropping rapidly toward the distant desert horizon, my heart sinking right along with it as I checked its progress. The lengthening shadows only increased the difficulty of my climb, but even so, I slowed only for the most dangerous sections. It seemed a miracle when I crested the last rise of the path and found myself suddenly at the top.

I did not pause to rest but ran full tilt into the house. Scarcely more than a minute later, the wand, map, and silverware had all been returned to their respective places. The rest of my illicit items were hidden away under my bed, including the key to the cupboard.

Still drawing ragged, panting breaths, I checked my appearance as best I could with my broken mirror and the remaining light filtering through my window. I wiped the dust off my face and clothes but could see no sign of the blow to my head nor any other clue toward my transgressions.

I was out of time; the wizard could be back any second. No time to prepare dinner, or light the candles, or finish the numerous other tasks that should have been done by now. How was I going to explain? What would be the least suspicious?

My legs were trembling from fatigue, and I sat down on the bed to try and think. I could say I fell asleep. Not a great plan, but not needing to move was rather appealing, and I had no better. I just needed to be convincing when the wizard discovered me. I laid down and closed my eyes to practice feigning the slow, even breath of sleep. _Don’t think about how angry… practice breathing_... My heartbeat had slowed to its normal pace, and it was so wonderfully good to be laying down. I settled deeper under the blanket. _Breathe in… and out..._ _In... and..._

“GWYDION!”

I jolted upright. Night had fully fallen, and it was only the shining orb of light floating a few inches above my master’s outstretched hand that allowed me to see the wizard’s furious expression.

“Work half done, the house dark, no dinner prepared, and you are _sleeping_? Never have I had such a worthless slave! Not worth what I spend to keep you clothed and fed, in fact! I should kill you now.” His eyes narrowed.

For once, the flash of sudden fear I let show at the death threat was real. This close, would he bother waiting until my actual birthday if I proved too much trouble?

“I’m going to work in my study for a few minutes. Dinner had better be ready by the time I’m done.”

Not a second after the small _pop_ of the wizard’s sudden disappearance, I was racing to the kitchen. The fire had gone out; I hadn’t banked it before I left. No time to cook anything, anyway. I coaxed it to life just enough to be able to light a candle. I threw together a plate of bread, mixed fruit, and a cold joint of meat and placed it on the table along with a mug of ale. In all, it was a simple meal, but it would have to do. The air grew heavy with static as I finished lighting the chandelier in the dining room, a warning of the wizard’s arrival a second later.

He said nothing as he surveyed the table, nor as he ate. Even once finished, he simply instructed, “Outside. Now.”

I couldn’t see his face as he spoke, but his cold tone now was more intimidating than his earlier raging. Even though I had been expecting it, my heart sank a bit at the command.

“Yes, sir.”

I paused in the kitchen long enough to place the dinner dishes in the sink, remove my shirt, and lay it on the table next to a small basket fetched from one of the kitchen shelves. Then it was outside, where the moonlight lit my way well enough as I walked to the end of the courtyard. The lights of the town below were a pool of yellow in the darkness. If this was the cost to return there, a free man, then I considered it a small price.

I heard the familiar sound of the wizard appearing behind me, and I turned to face him. The courtyard brightened as the wizard created three more of his light orbs. They floated up above and between us, tiny perfect suns bobbing slightly up and down almost cheerfully. I hated them.

“Begin,” the wizard commanded.

I kept my eyes on the ground between us as I spoke. “I have earned this punishment by falling asleep instead of performing my assigned tasks. This is a grievous error that will not be repeated in the future.” I paused and when the wizard’s silence indicated no more was expected, I turned back around.

His magic lifted me from the ground and anchored me in the air by my wrists. I focused on the lights of the town and made no sound as the first red line of pain arced across my back. The blow was silent, delivered via magic rather than any physical lash. Thrice more the pain flared, and thrice more I kept my silence. Then I was dropped without warning back onto the ground, and I fell to my knees as both wizard and lights vanished.

The pain sharpened at the sudden jarring of my fall, and doubt and fear suddenly assailed me. What did I think I was doing? This was bad enough, how bad would it be when Manannan finally discovered what I’d been planning? If I got rid of all my contraband as soon as possible, maybe I had a chance; I could throw it all off the mountainside.

The pain subsided somewhat. _Daventry_. My plan would work, and then I was leaving to go to Daventry. I just needed to keep my focus on that. With my resolve hardened once again, I managed to pick myself back up.

In the kitchen, I pulled out several strips of clean cloth from the basket I had laid out. While the lash itself had been magical, the wounds it left were real enough. After bandaging myself up as well as I could, I did the bare minimum required of me. I returned the basket, rinsed and dried the few dinner dishes, and readied the wizard’s bedroom for the night.

Normally after such I night, I went straight to sleep, and to keep up appearances I climbed into bed. I left my nightshirt in the clothes chest; it wasn’t worth the pain involved in getting it over my head.

I sat looking out my window as I waited. I couldn’t see the town from here, but the moon was full enough that I could see the light reflecting off the waves below. Twice I woke to the flare of pain as I inadvertently leaned against the wall next to me.

When at last I deemed it late enough that Manannan should be asleep, I collected my contraband from beneath my bed and slipped carefully downstairs. I saw no sign of the cat as I retrieved a spoon and bowl from the kitchen and the wand from the cupboard and returned to the laboratory.

I was so focused on the task at hand that I barely noted the cold and nausea emanating from _The Sorcery Of Old_ as I turned to the correct page. I selected the mandrake root powder from the wizard’s shelves of ingredients and placed it on the table next to the cat hair, spoon, bowl, wand, and the hard-earned fish oil. I was ready.

The spell was slightly more involved than the first had been. I mixed the cat hair with carefully measured amounts of the mandrake root powder and fish oil, forming a thick dough-like substance that I squished into a roughly circular shape. Now to wait for it to harden.

I walked over to the staircase and sat down. Then a few minutes later I ignored the protesting of my back as I got back up again and idly examined the bones on the shelves, feeling too restless to stay still. I sat back down again only to stand to check on the cookie. I could still clearly see the cat hair. It certainly did not look appetizing in any way. I reviewed the spellbook page and practiced the incantation in my head.

A half-hour later, after a couple of minutes spent agonizing over whether or not I had given it long enough, I determined it was ready; the dough no longer depressed when I pushed on it. I picked up the wand and recited:

“Mandrake root and hair of cat, mix oil of fish, and give a pat. A feline from the one who eats, this appetizing magic treat.”

There was a sparkle of light as I passed the wand over the cookie. As with the eagle and fly spell, I felt a tingle of warmth. But instead of the floating feeling, I suddenly craved nothing more than to have a meal of fish followed by a long nap in a warm patch of sunlight. Then light and warmth and desire vanished. The cookie remained visibly unchanged, but I had felt the spell cast successfully. Now I just had to trick the wizard into eating it.

Despite my weariness, sleep would not come. I couldn’t find a comfortable position, and every time I shifted my back stung worse. When I closed my eyes, I couldn’t help but envision the wizard killing me in various ways. The hours till dawn seemed to alternatively stretch eternally before me and pass by within the space of a breath. When the grey of dawn finally did appear, it was a relief; at least the waiting was nearly over, no matter what the day ahead held for me.

I needed to act like this was just a typical morning, despite my jittery anticipation. As usual, I took an apple out with me as I watched the sunrise. I had not eaten since the previous morning, and despite everything, was famished. I fed the chickens and gathered the eggs, wrote out the list of items that needed replenishing, and made a thick porridge for breakfast.

It was only after I had spooned out the porridge into a bowl that I deviated from my usual behavior. I pulled the cookie from its hiding place in the flour bin and pounded the cookie into dust. I stirred it into the steaming porridge, hoping as I did so that breaking it up did not lessen its potency. Doing so was the only way I could think of that had any chance of Manannan not noticing I had poisoned his meal.

After convincing myself that the porridge looked no different than usual, I started to head upstairs to awaken Manannan. I only made it a few steps before I stopped cold. I had been so focused on the cookie I had almost forgotten to sweeten the porridge. After adding honey to it, I resumed the morning routine.

Once finished, I stepped against the wall in my usual position and tried to stop my hands from trembling. The table looked like it would any other morning. The porridge was keeping under a cloche, and a mug and small platter of apple slices and cheese sat beside it. Utensils and shopping list were also set out, just as they should be. I repeated the words to myself again and again as I waited. I must act normally.

Dust motes slowly danced through the morning sunlight streaming from the windows. Drops of condensation rolled down the sides of the mug and pooled on the table. I startled at a sudden creaking sound from somewhere deeper in the house, and I held my breath through several seconds of tense listening.

Was it my nervousness making it seem like the wizard was taking too long? Or had the wizard discovered my plot, and even now deciding on how to kill me? A bead of sweat was trickling its way down the back of my neck when the air filled with the tell-tale static announcing the wizard's arrival.

Manannan sat down at the table without even a glance at me as I uncovered his food. After stepping back, I settled my gaze on the far window, watching the wizard out of the corner of my eye. First, a bite of cheese. Then some of the apple. I felt myself trembling again at the first bite of porridge.

Nothing. The wizard went on eating. He hadn't noticed the cookie. And so went every bite thereafter - me observing for any sign of discovery, and Manannan oblivious to the fact he was being poisoned.

Manannan took a long pull from his goblet. I automatically picked up the pitcher from the shelf beside me to refill it only to realize my hands were shaking so badly the water sloshed almost to the brim. I tried steady them, but I was panicking now, and my hands only shook harder.

The seconds were ticking by, I was taking too long, and water was dripping onto my hand and the floor below. Frantic and sleep-deprived, I could think of no lie to explain away my strange behavior. I needed a distraction, but what would it cost me? Past events flickered through my mind, and I tried to judge what would be the greater risk, suspicion or anger -

“What are - “ Out of time. I closed my eyes and dropped the pitcher to the floor with enough force to shatter it.

I received a scathing look as I stared down at the broken pitcher and spilled water in genuine horror at what I had done.

“As you apparently have no respect for my property - no books. Bring the one you have now.”

A few weeks ago, this was the punishment I most dreaded. Now I cared not one whit and was the best I could have hoped for. “Yes, sir.”

I gathered the pitcher shards and entered the kitchen. I took a few seconds to close my eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of warm stones against my back and the roughness of old paper under my fingers. The creaking of cracked leather bindings. Drawing a deep breath, I opened my eyes and gathered the book I’d been reading and a spare pitcher.

My hands still trembled slightly as I placed the book on the dining room table, but I managed to refill my master’s mug without spilling.

Neither of us spoke again during the rest of his breakfast. Afterward, he picked up the book and my list. I vaguely noted that he had made none of his usual disparaging remarks about the latter, but gave it no further thought. He vanished, leaving me alone with an empty porridge bowl and a sinking heart.

I slid down the wall and rested my forehead on my knees, unsure if I was more relieved that Manannan had not noticed the cookie or terrified that it had not worked.

“YOU!”

My head collided with the wall behind me as I snapped my attention upwards. The wizard’s anger the night before had been minor irritation compared to his rage now. Already his hands were glowing and moving as he started an incantation for a spell. I had heard that incantation once before - when there had been a cage, and a bird, and -

I launched myself out of the way just in time - a silver bolt of magic hit the wall where I had been sitting, marring it with a black spot roughly the size of my head. I landed on my side, facing him.

“WHAT-” Manannan paused. I had never before seen my master show the slightest hint of fear or doubt, but now both started to crack through his visage of anger. "What did you -" The glow of his hands faded as he bent over double.

He lost his balance and fell towards me. I scrambled backwards to avoid being landed on. When I looked back up, a black cat had taken his place.

Nearly nose-to-nose, we stared at each other. For one short moment, I felt a faint stirring of uncertainty at my betrayal of the man who had raised me and had, for so very long, been my sole living tie to the rest of humankind. The moment lasted no longer than that of a single heartbeat; then the cat lunged, hissing, and I rejected both the thought and the last deep-rooted bond of a child’s blind loyalty.

Unused to having four legs instead of two, the former wizard tripped and fell on his whiskered face. He clambered to his feet, hissed at me again, and staggered off toward the entry room.

I was free.


	8. Friends

June 27th, 1559

_“Some things, I have learned, are just too large to encompass the moment they happen.”_

_-Gwydion, King’s Quest Companion_

At some point, I regained enough sense to pick myself up off the floor. I returned to my room, pulled out my bag, and stuffed my spare shirt and nightshirt in it. A few of my favorite books from the study soon followed, the ones I had read so often they felt like my own rather than the wizard’s. After a moment’s hesitation, I packed his wand as well.

I had no desire for anything else among the wizard’s possessions, and no immediate plans other than to somehow, eventually, get to Daventry. Until now, every moment had been focused on the cookie; I had given little thought to what I would do if it actually worked. The only thing I was sure of was that I would never spend another night in this house.

I teleported to a patch of woods as far from Davis’ hideout as I could and sank to the ground underneath the nearest tree. I could see the ocean from here, but I couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t connect one thought to the next. The shadows around me shrank as the sun reached its zenith. A white dot appeared on the horizon.

A buzzing sound started to my left, and I turned toward it. A bee. It looped around my head once, then landed briefly on my tree. Once satisfied there was nothing of interest about either of us, it flew off.

The tree’s shadow had started lengthening toward the sea. The white dot had also grown. A ship. I marshaled my thoughts together. Focus. That’s what I was supposed to be doing, finding a ship to Daventry. To town, then.

The ship was docking at an empty pier as I reached the harbor side of town. My path to the docks took me right by the tavern. As I approached, the door swung open, and Davis and Kory appeared. I still had the presence of mind, at least, to make sure the wand was within easy reach, so I quickly had pointed at them before they had time to get too close. And, for a wonder, I managed to hold it steady. They backed up a pace, wary.

“Knew it had to be you, stealing our money. Truly are a thief, aren’t you?” Davis said. “Wizard’ll be around soon enough, and I’d really prefer to have it back before he obliterates it along with you. Hand the money over. And the wand.”

My hand dropped an inch.

_No!_

The thought cut through the fog in my head. I hadn’t obeyed Manannan, and I would _not_ obey Davis. My newfound freedom had been too hard-won to give it up now. My hand was shaking again, but in anger rather than fear. I raised the wand again.

“The wizard won’t be showing up here ever again. Not as a human. I stole his magic; he’s a cat now,” someone said.

Oh. That had been me. The part of myself that had refused to accept the wizard’s plan for me, to fight despite the odds. The part that had kept me alive every long year of my enslavement.

_I survived that,_ it said so that only I could hear._ And I can do this. Today, I bested the wizard. Today, I can do anything._ I gripped hard at both the wild, reckless strength it fed me and the wand. I did my best to imitate Manannan as I met Davis’ eyes and threatened, “Leave me alone before I do the same to you.”

“He_ was_ teleportin’,” said Kory. “And the wizard never showed…” Doubt flickered across Davis’ face as he eyed the wand I still pointed at him. Then his gaze moved to something behind me.

“Just what are you on about now, Davis?” said Liliana.

“Fine.” Davis raised his arms to signal defeat. “Keep it, for now. But I’d be watchin’ my back if I were you.” He and Kory retreated as he gave his warning.

I kept the wand up until they’d turned the corner and vanished from sight.

“Is that true?” Liliana was standing a few paces from me, a covered basket hanging from one arm.

“Yes. I mean... the part about Manannan is...” my voice trailed off. I saw her hand cover her mouth as she absorbed the news before I lowered my gaze to the ground.

“Forever? And he’ll never do magic again?”

“Yes.”

“Then… that means…” her own voice trailed off. “You’re shaking. Why don’t you come inside with me and sit down?”

I gestured at the ship behind me. “I was on my way to ask about passage to Daventry. I don’t know when they leave.”

I looked back up at her as she shook her head. “Not for another day but that ship’s not going to Daventry. Opposite direction, actually.”

“Oh.”

She opened the door to the tavern and held it open for me. Not knowing what else to do, I entered, then followed as she crossed the common room. A few scattered people were occupied with food or drink, but only one bothered to glance up at us. In the kitchen, the older woman was tending some pans set on the hearth. Liliana put her basket down and picked up her son, who had squealed happily upon seeing her.

“It’s fine,” she said before her grandmother had a chance to object upon seeing me. She pulled out two chairs from the table as she said this, then grabbed a cup and then expertly juggled her son, the cup, and the ladle as she filled it from a water barrel. She handed me the cup and indicated one of the chairs before sitting down herself and introducing her family. “My grandmother Edith, and this little guy is my son, Jadon.”

I sat, feeling self-conscious as all three watched me do so.

“Grandma - “ Liliana started to say, but stopped and addressed me instead, “Oh. I never got your name?”

“Gwydion,” I said.

“Gwydion says he took the wizard’s magic and turned him into a cat. He has the wand, and the wizard never showed this morning like he usually does.”

Edith said nothing but looked first at Liliana, then at me. Her intense gaze bored into me as if she could see not only my physical self but into my mind as well. Finally, she asked, “How?”

“I found his secret laboratory by accident. There was a book there, a spellbook. _The Sorcery Of Old_. It had a spell for transforming someone into a cat.”

“Which you say you used. That part could not have been an accident.”

“No.” Were they upset to have the wizard gone, or did they think I was lying?

“And you still have his wand?”

I pulled it out of my bag to show Edith. She looked at it, silent. When she finally looked up at Liliana, she said, “You believe him.”

Liliana nodded.

“I do, too,” Edith said. She stood and walked over to the window to stare out it.

Liliana shifted Jadon, who had fallen asleep, on her lap. “I’m sorry, Gwydion. We should have helped you when you were here before.”

“I… understand why you couldn’t.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of just what you’ve done for us. For the town.”

Edith spoke to the window rather than to us. "Port Bruce was not always as it is now; my mother spoke of a time she heard from her own grandmother when it was a thriving port, packed with ships and people from far off lands. They came both to trade and - if they were lucky enough to be granted an audience - to speak with the Oracle.

Then the wizard came, and everything changed. In one bloody day, he killed the ruling family and the Oracle's guardians. He tried to kill the Oracle herself but soon realized that was beyond even his power. So instead he enchanted a spider so that it grew to enormous size and charged it with guarding the Oracle's cave.

He declared dominion over the town. Those who resisted were also killed, for none could stand against the wizard's prodigious magic. He had his mountain manor built, and over time, more pirates landed at the docks than honest sailors and merchants. Bandits infested the countryside. Most honest folk fled; only those too stubborn to leave their homes or those unable to afford passage stayed. And over time the people here adjusted to the wizard's rule and learned to survive until they knew no other way of life.” She turned from the window to look at me.

“I was just… surviving. But I am glad you are free of him, too.”

“And now you’re going to Daventry?” Liliana asked.

“I found a record in Manannan’s things. I think that’s where he…” I paused. Stole me? Bought me? I still didn’t know. “... where I was born.”

“And all it said was Daventry?” asked Edith. I nodded.

“If you want more answers, the Oracle might be able to help, if she still lives. Already you managed what no one else could; perhaps you are also the one to defeat its guardian. With the source of Port Bruce’s corruption gone, this town may yet be able to heal itself of the infection that has ailed it for so many years, but it will never return to its former glory if the Oracle is dead or still imprisoned. "

The events of the last twenty-four hours were taking their toll. Exhaustion had started to creep in, but the thought of discovering more of my origins was a sudden surge of energy.

Patience, I reminded myself, as I tried to ignore my growing hopes. It was all too likely the Oracle no longer existed, or would be unable or unwilling to help me. Not to mention its guardian.

"I can give you directions to the cave if you wish," Liliana added. “But I think it can wait until tomorrow? You look as if you could do with some rest, first.”

I nodded. I knew the energy I felt now was only a thin layer over my fatigue. "Tomorrow,” I echoed. I stood up to go, but I still had the cup and hesitated.

“We have an extra room upstairs we rent out, sometimes. You’re welcome to it, no charge.”

A room in town with strangers was still a more appealing option than returning to Manannan’s house, but their kindness toward me was disconcerting; I didn’t know how to respond to it. “I have money. I can pay you…”

Liliana shook her head. “Even so, I won’t accept it.”

“I - “ It didn’t feel right to invade their home. But how to tell them that?

“How’s this?” Edith said. “If you’d rather, you can help me out a bit back here. In exchange, the room is yours for a long as you need it, meals included.”

I nodded, relieved, just as another issue occurred to me. “Thank you. I would- “

_Come on, Gwydion. You can do anything today, remember?_

“I’d rather no one knew I was here. Or what I did. Not yet.”

“Our secret, then.” Liliana stood. “I’ll show you the room.”

Neither Edith or Liliana asked that I help in the common room, for which I was grateful; I didn’t care to run into Davis and Kory again. Instead, I helped Edith prepare the evening meal as I listened, fascinated, to her tell stories about her life and Port Bruce.

I was reminded of the days in my early childhood spent in the kitchen with Alya, one of the spirit servants Manannan had conjured. My earliest memory was helping her cook by turning the spit before the fire. She had been my favorite of the spirit servants.

Liliana’s mother had never been a healthy child and had passed away not long after having her. Edith had taken on the raising of Liliana, as her father was a sailor and often away for months at a time. Eventually, Liliana had fallen in love with Alton, another sailor. Her father was initially against the marriage, as he felt that Liliana needed a husband who would be at home to protect her. Someone like Fent, the blacksmith’s son.

“Port Bruce is a rough town, to be sure. But Liliana’s never been one to rely on others to protect her. Stubborn as a mule, too -”

“I heard that!” Liliana called from the common room. “Three guesses where I got that trait from. I seem to remember when you -”

“Yes, well,” said Edith. “That’s another story. To continue with the one I’m currently in the middle of, Lilliana eventually got her way and married Alton. He should be here in a couple of weeks when the _Sea Sparrow_ gets back in.”

As evening approached, the common room started to grow crowded. “Busiest we’ve been in a while. Cierra here yet?” Edith asked as Liliana came in again to fetch another plate of food. Liliana nodded as she rushed out. Even in the kitchen, I found the cacophony of voices almost grating. I had never imagined people could be so loud.

Cierra turned out the be a girl they hired to help serve in the evenings. She gave me a curious look when she first entered the kitchen but was too busy to stay and talk.

“The wizard’s all anyone’s talking about,” Liliana reported the next time she came in. “All kinds of rumors flying around. Some say he finally died of old age. Old Rufus is warning anyone that’ll listen that he’s busy preparing some horrible spell to destroy the whole town. And either someone heard you this morning, Gwydion, or Davis or Kory talked because some are saying he’s a cat now.”

“They won’t do anything but talk for now, “ Edith replied. “Probably take a week or two before they decide he truly is gone. And another week after that before anyone agrees on what to do about it.”

Edith shooed me off to bed not long after when I started nodding off. Once in bed, though, I couldn't fall asleep. The combination of the strange surroundings and the fact that I still couldn’t lie comfortably on my back didn’t help. The events of the day flashed again and again through my mind, though they felt more dream than reality. I still half-expected Manannan to appear at any moment, enraged at what I had done, or Liliana to open the door and tell me she had made a mistake and I had to leave now.

A thin wailing started from the other side of the wall behind my head. A strange, lilting noise followed, and the wailing subsided. I laid still, fascinated with the beautiful sound.

Safe and warm in bed

Lay down your weary head

In sleep, you'll roam

So far from home

Chasing your hopes and your dreams

Over mountains you’ll go

To the valleys below

Through forests green

And sights unseen

Chasing your hopes and your dreams

In fields of barley or wheat

In meadows of flowers so sweet

You can play and run

Having so much fun

Chasing your hopes and your dreams

At morning's first light

In my arms so tight

You'll wake for the day

Ready to play

Chasing your hopes and your dreams

_Singing_, I realized, after a few seconds of mentally groping for the right word. Liliana was singing to her son. I closed my eyes and concentrated on only the sweet words that soon carried both toddler and me into sleep.


	9. The Spider

June 28th, 1559

_“You can’t help but wonder about the spider which could create such a web.”_

_-King’s Quest III_

I woke to morning light streaming through the window. As I rubbed my eyes, trying to make sense of things, my stomach dropped. I had overslept, the wizard would be up any moment and expecting a breakfast I had no time to make. I flung myself out of bed - or tried to. My sheet and blanket had tangled in the night, and I half fell out of bed, arms landing onto the floor below. A floor darker in color than it should have been, and with planks that were too wide. The events of the previous day finally came rushing back as I extricated myself from the linens, panicked heartbeat slowing.

After making the bed and shrugging on my pack, I headed out to the narrow stairs. As I descended, I heard Liliana’s voice from the kitchen.

“- and we did nothing. I mean, there’s always been rumors, whispers… but we all just stuck our heads in the sand and ignored it, told ourselves it wasn’t true. But it was. Some of it, at least.”

“We don’t have a choice! What can we do? No one can stand up to him. Not and live, anyway,” a male voice said, one I didn’t recognize.

I stopped, not wanting to interrupt. I started to ease back up the stairs but paused as I heard my name.

“Gwydion did,” Liliana said.

“And you truly believe that?”

“Yes. He’s not a threat anymore. Can’t you feel it? It’s like… a fog is slowly lifting off this town, or - I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“No. Look, -”

I missed the next bit of conversation, lost in thought. I had also felt what Liliana was talking about, but I had thought it all in my head, a small piece of what it meant to be free. If Liliana felt it too, though, maybe there was more to it.

Liliana was replying to whatever the male voice had said.

“ - haven’t met him. He barely talks or even looks at you. Fent-”

“All right. If he wants help, just let me know. I’ll be at the shop.”

“Thank you. And you won’t say anything? Or Cierra?”

“No, but I don’t - “

They moved into the common room and out of my hearing. I finally descended the last few steps. I exited out the back door to visit the outhouse, and when I returned, Edith was entering from the stairwell with Jadon in tow.

"Morning," she said as she indicated a bowl and a large portion of bread on the hearth. "Kept this warm for you. Liliana didn't want to wake you."

"Thank you." How strange to have a meal handed to me, already made with no effort on my part. As I picked it up, it dawned on me that I would never again have to prepare breakfast for the wizard.

"There now. Good to see a smile at last," Liliana had returned from the common room, her own face smiling at me.

"Get a bit more weight on those bones, and with those good looks he'll have half the ladies in town chasing after him," said Edith.

I nearly dropped my bowl.

"Grandma!"

Edith ignored her daughter's exasperation as she waved me on. "Your food's getting cold."

I sat down at the table, and Liliana followed suit. The bowl was full of egg and potato, and the bread was thick with nuts and fruit.

"I don't think you should go alone, " Liliana said, frowning. "Cierra’s brother, Fent, could accompany you. He has some skill with a sword, and he already knows about you. He came by this morning. Apparently, Cierra’s already put two and two together."

I stayed silent for several seconds before realizing she was asking my opinion. Manannan had never once asked for my thoughts on anything.

I opened my mouth to assent, then closed it. Openly disagreeing with the wizard would have meant immediate punishment. But with Liliana and Edith, it was different - wasn’t it? They were so unlike the wizard. And what _did_ I want? To spend the day wandering the woods with a stranger? No. Liliana and Edith were a wonder, but even less than a day spent in their company was wearying. I wanted to be by myself again, at least for a little while. So much was happening so fast, and none of this yet felt real.

A tiny sliver of yesterday’s recklessness returned. Time alone to settle the whirling in my head was worth a little risk, I decided. I shook my head. "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

No sign of anger - or even displeasure. How different indeed. I added, "If my plan fails, maybe then."

"Plan?" queried Edith.

I indicated my pack and answered, "The cat spell wasn't the only magic I've done." I didn't offer any further details.

After breakfast, Lilliana indicated a small pile of clothing stacked in an empty chair. “I found some old things of Alton’s. And as they are the least we can do, I insist.”

So a few minutes later, I returned from my room to stand by the fireplace as she placed pins into the shirt and trousers she had given me to change into. While not new, they were less patched and in better condition than my own, but hung loosely on me until Liliana finished her pinning. I left the tavern in my own clothes again, with both directions to the Oracle and Liliana’s promise to have the new ones taken in by the time I returned.

On my way out of town, I bought rose petal essence from the same general goods store I had patronized the day before. Thankfully, this time without being asked any questions.

Barely a day had passed, and I was already breaking the promise I had made to myself to never return to the wizard’s house. At least now I could take my time as I navigated the mountain path once again.

I made it to the top without incident. As I put my hand on the front door to open it, I became fully aware that something wasn’t right. I looked around, and when my gaze fell on the chicken pen, I realized it was the lack of noise and movement that had caught my attention.

I moved closer, then recoiled. The chickens were still there, but every single one was dead. In my rapid flight yesterday, I had forgotten them and left them to suffer Manannan’s rage. Apparently, it had not taken him long to grow accustomed to his new form.

Leaving the horrifying scene behind, I entered the house and started a thorough search for the wizard-turned-cat. I hadn’t forgotten the way he had looked at me after he’d realized what I had done. His body might be a cat’s, but the mind glaring back at me through those almond yellow eyes had undoubtedly been Manannan’s. And I would be vulnerable during my spellcasting, a fact the wizard would well know. Even a small interruption could have disastrous consequences. If I could find him and lock him up, all the better.

Other than the dead chickens, the place was just as I had left it. The breakfast dishes, including the bowl with the poisoned porridge, were still neatly arranged on the dining room table. Manannan’s bed remained unmade, and the papers his desk were untouched. But though I felt as if I were being watched everywhere I went, the search proved fruitless, and I had no way of knowing if he was even still home. I couldn’t find the wizard’s cat, either. As much as I disliked the feline, I hoped he would be able to find his way down the mountain now that I would no longer be here to feed him.

As I descended the stairs to the laboratory, the torches in the laboratory flickered to life as they had every time before. As I turned _The Sorcery Of Old_ to the correct page, however, they fluttered twice, then guttered out. The little bit of sunlight spilling down the staircase wasn’t enough to read by. Skin prickling, I headed upstairs in search of more light. The kitchen fire had gone out, and I had to find my tinderbox to light a candle.

Back in the laboratory, I was finally able to complete the spell I needed. I kept my guard up as I casted, and was grateful that the eagle and fly spell was so short and straightforward. As soon as the rose petal essence was glowing, I used the map to teleport as far north of the town as I could.

According to Liliana, the Oracle’s cave was located in the mountains and would take a couple of hours to reach. Once there had been a road, but years of neglect had seen it reclaimed by the forest. I found only remnants: the supports of a bridge long gone, scattered sections of a stone wall.

I started out taking my time as I hiked through the thick woodland, trying to enjoy the experience now that I was no longer on a strict time limit. But the trip up to the house had left me with a clinging uneasiness that no amount of greenery or sunshine could wash away. Every shadow was concealing Manannan’s black robe, every rustle a sign of his imminent appearance. Gradually I increased my pace, and by the end of the hike, I was relieved to reach my destination - a small clearing at the base of the mountains.

I hid behind one of the surrounding trees to survey the area. Rocks and boulders studded the open space with most concentrated near the cave. The cave entrance was nearly thrice my height and slightly wider than it was tall. A tremendous spiderweb with webbing as thick as my wrist spanned the opening, but of the spider, I saw nothing.

I pulled out my vial of rose petal essence and the eagle feather and set down my other gear, then scanned the ground until I found a suitable rock. With all my strength, I heaved it toward the web. It fell short by several paces, but still served its purpose - the spider leaped out from the crevice it had been hiding in and pounced on its prey.

It looked much like any other spider I had ever seen - with the crucial exception of it being about near as tall I was. Legs thick as tree saplings supported its hairy body. Two fangs were twin daggers protruding from its head.

The spider gave a loud shriek of anger at realizing the prey was nothing more than a rock. The sight was nothing if not intimidating, and for a moment, doubt assailed me. I was not a warrior. Or even a real wizard. I was no one.

I reached for the strength that had enabled me to stand up to Davis so boldly. I could not - would not - turn back now, not when the answers I sought could be so close. I dipped the feather and spoke the activation words to become an eagle again.

I flew close to the ground into the clearing. With alarm, I saw that the spider had almost returned to its hiding place. I didn't know if I would be able to lure it out again in this form safely, and I knew the rose petal essence wouldn’t last forever. I yelled to get its attention as I sped toward it and startled myself as the shriek of an eagle sounded in place of my human voice. The spider turned and hissed at me, its fangs wide as it reared up on its hind legs.

I flew above its reach and had to turn sharply to avoid hitting the mountain, the rock wall mere handbreadth away. Now that I had the spider's attention, I gained altitude as I circled back to the cave entrance. It sat unmoving, waiting. I judged myself close enough and dove, air whistling past as I hurtled toward the ground. I opened my claws wide and aimed for one of its legs.

It dodged my attack, and I hit the body rather than one of the legs. I couldn’t get a firm grasp. My claws slipped off and slammed into the earth, followed by my wings. I pushed off the ground as fast as I could, acutely aware I was the last place I wanted to be. Somehow I managed to get myself in the air, not as steady as I had been, but well enough that I was able to reach the trees. I banked, looping around the edge of the clearing. I was afraid the spider would have managed to return to the cave, but instead, it was sitting in the middle of the clearing, its head turning to watch me. Before I lost the chance, I turned sharply toward it. I could see a deep gash along the top of its abdomen. While not enough to kill it, the wound at least had the beneficial effect of making it angry. Angry enough that it had abandoned fleeing and was now charging right at me.

I changed tactics; instead of flying high and then diving, I kept close to the ground. The spider reared up again, but this time, I anticipated the move. My claws reached out and clamped around one of the spider's front legs and then I was flapping hard in an attempt to keep flying. The spider was heavy, almost too heavy for me to stay alight. Unable to get above tree level, I abandoned my plan to carry the spider way up and dropping it. Instead, I slowly headed toward the sea. The spider was thrashing wildly, but I kept my grip tight.

My wings ached by the time I was at last flying over open water. With relief, I released the spider into the dark, cold waters below. I didn't stay to watch it sink but immediately turned and sped back toward the beach. I didn’t know how to swim and had no desire to be over water if the spell suddenly ended.

I alighted on the ground by my pack and ended the spell. Even after transforming back, my shoulders and arms hurt as if I had spent the entire day chopping firewood. A few minutes to rest and eat, I decided, before I investigated the cave further.


	10. The Oracle

June 28th, 1559

_“At that moment, my entire life shattered.”_

_-Gwydion, King’s Quest Companion_

A lit rushlight in one hand and knife in the other, I slowly approached the cave entrance. All was still, save for a few errant strands of webbing light enough to be swayed by the breeze. The strands that stretched across the cave opening were larger, almost as thick as my fist. Past them, the afternoon light illuminated a few paces of leaf-littered rock. I tested a section of webbing with my knife; a few moments of hacking and it parted. A dozen strands later and the web was no more than remnants fringing the cave opening.

Not seeing or hearing any more spiders, I slipped between the dangling webbing. Part of it brushed my shoulder, and I had to pull hard to be free of the clinging stuff. My sudden freedom propelled me several steps further into the cave.

Further in, the stone floor was covered in sand and littered with bones as well as sticks and leaves. Animal ones, I hoped. But a second later, I tightened my grip on my knife as I spotted what I was almost certain was a human skull. The forest debris ended as the cave widened.

Lifting the rushlight higher, I found myself in an almost circular room about twenty yards across. The room was empty other than a stone pedestal in the center. No longer wary of spiders, I put my knife away as I moved toward the pedestal.

As I approached, the walls and ceiling began to glow with gentle, swirling patterns that repeated around the room. Their soft, blue light quickly illuminated the entire cave. I abandoned the rushlight in the sand behind me.

On top of the pedestal was an opaque orb held in place by a small metal stand. I waited several seconds and then, unsure of what else to do, reached out and placed a hand on the orb. It started glowing with the same blue light as the surrounding walls.

A flicker in the air on the other side of the pedestal drew my attention upwards. As I watched, a transparent figure appeared with the far wall still visible through its body. It wore a simple brown robe so heavily cowled I could see nothing of its face but a deep shadow. I was drawing breath to speak when she spoke first.

“Be at ease, young one. No harm will come to you here,” she said, and her voice left my skin prickling.

I had not realized it until now, but Manannan’s voice had been tinged with magic. It was the same with the Oracle’s. But as she continued, it became quickly apparent that their voices were as different as they were similar. The power behind hers was both gentler and yet far stronger than his had been.

Faint echoes of something fluttered at the edges of my hearing; was it the crackling of a dying fire behind me and the soft scrape of a turning page? The bright birdsong of a robin flitting about in branches above my head? The delighted peals of a toddler’s laughter, or the sweet notes of his mother’s lullaby? It seemed all of these and more. Perhaps if I had closed my eyes and concentrated on the sounds of her voice rather than the words it formed, I would have been able to discern the individual sounds. Instead, I let their combined song of warmth and peace envelop me, more at ease than I had been in days.

"No visitor has stood before me since the wizard Manannan enchanted the spider and bade it guard my door. Since then, I have waited for the final captive who would successfully rise against his master and slay his familiar. Who would fell the wizard and break his magic. For over a hundred years, I have waited for you, Gwydion.”

The faint tendril of hope I hadn't been able to banish blossomed within me. "You know who I am?"

"Better than you know yourself, Gwydion of Llewdor, Prince Alexander of Daventry."

My breath caught in my throat, but the Oracle gave me no time to remember how to breathe before gesturing to the orb. I looked down at unseeingly. _Alexander_.

The orb was no longer opaque; it had turned clear with a myriad of colors whirling violently in the center. I snapped my attention to it as the colors grew to fill the entirety of the orb, then slowed and stopped to reveal the image of a man with a golden crown atop gray hair.

"King Graham,” explained the Oracle.

King Graham wore a shirt that looked as if it had initially been of excellent cut and quality, but had been poorly looked after. The embroidery was coming undone, and it was too big in the shoulders as if he had recently lost weight. He was talking with someone I couldn't see, but he seemed deeply worried about what they were discussing and visibly weary. But his fatigue, the dark circles under his eyes, the wrinkles that lined his face - none could hide the familial resemblance between us. It was like looking at a future version of myself.

My body must have remembered how to breathe on its own at some point because it near stopped again as I realized I was looking at my father.

"Queen Valanice," the Oracle continued as all too soon the image shifted to the right to reveal the king's companion, a woman who could only be my mother. Her auburn hair was neatly pinned up, and she also wore a golden crown, though smaller than her husband's. She too looked worried, though even her frown and her weariness could not hide the softness in her eyes that seemed to suggest warmth and gentleness. Or maybe it was only my own desire for such things that made her look so.

"Princess Rosella."

This time the image refocused on an entirely new image. The woman revealed this time was young, somewhere around my age. She was sitting at a desk, focused on the paper before her, a quill in one hand. As I watched, she tilted her head as she thought, and a section of long blonde hair fell into her face. She absently tucked it back behind her ear before continuing to write.

"You have seen your family as they are now, but I have sorrowful news. For many years a rogue dragon has terrorized any country it wanders through. It takes great delight in demanding great quantities of food and gold, and once a year, a maiden sacrifice. If refused, villages and fields are burnt and destroyed until its demands are met. Many have died; both in retribution for failing to provide the proper tribute, and in attempts to fight the beast with sword and magic."

A ghostly hand reached out from beneath the robes to pass over the orb. The orb dazzled bright blue in response, so bright that I had to close my eyes. When I opened them again, a new image once again filled the orb, though much blurrier than the previous ones. I could still make out Princess Rosella, but now she was outside, her hands bound behind a pole. She was struggling to keep a brave face, but her wide eyes and tense stance betrayed the terror the gripped her.

"For the past two years, Daventry has been the most recent kingdom to fall prey to the dragon's harsh demands, and your sister will be the next demanded sacrifice in three weeks time."

The image panned out to show me the dragon advancing toward Rosella - a massive beast with three heads all focused on the frightened girl before them.

"The dragon's going… going to kill her?" I asked dumbly, feeling thick-headed after this string of revelations.

"That is one possible - though likely - future. Even at full strength, I can often only see several possible futures, and my long dormancy has greatly weakened me. In time, my strength will return, but for now, I can only say that much will depend on you. And that your only path to return home in time will come with the rising dawn."

"Me?" What could I possibly do to help? I could no longer hear the music in her voice through the ringing in my ears.

"Yes. But I cannot keep this form much longer. I have something for you."

Her hand appeared again, this time holding out a small, smooth object. The surrounding lights were already dimming, and it was too dark to tell what the object was. At some point during the conversation, my rushlight had guttered out. I took the object and placed it in my bag. The orb had returned to its initial opaque state.

The figure before me was fading fast but managed a few final words of farewell and encouragement. "Only someone with a strong spirit and a brave heart could have endured all that you have, and yet still succeeded in overthrowing the wizard. Remember - you have the strength within you to defeat this enemy as well, if you look for it.“

The figure entirely vanished and the cave fell into darkness.

"Thank you," I whispered. There was no reply.

Then I was walking through the woods with only a vague memory of leaving the cave. My thoughts were so aswirl I was almost surprised I hadn’t walked right into a tree.

Graham. Valanice. Rosella. The names and faces repeated again and again in my head. My family.

There was a wall inside me, one I had held so tight for so long that I hadn’t even realized it was there. It had thinned during the events of the past few weeks and had cracked further when I stood my ground before Davis, but still, I had managed to keep it from crumbling entirely. Now it shattered, leaving me unprotected from the flood behind it that threatened to both drown and burn me all at once. Anger at Manannan and at the circumstances of my life; the intense loneliness and longing for acceptance and approval that had long been my only companions; and the fear that at any moment the little good and joy I had scraped together for myself would be taken away - all roiled within me, vying for precedence, and all a fire that seemed to blaze hotter through my veins with every heartbeat.

The flood gradually slowed, and as it receded, I found myself seated against a tree trunk. Taking several measured breaths, I reached for calm.

That calm vanished as I remembered Rosella and that it was up to me to save her. How could I prevail where so many others had failed? Undoubtedly powerful knights and sorcerers had faced the dragon. I had no experience in anything save cooking, cleaning, and casting two simple spells woven in desperation. I would only succeed in failing my sister and my parents.

_If you look for it._ The Oracle’s last words ghosted through my head, small and faint among the doubts that assaulted me, and I clutched at them like a drowning man thrown a rope. I had stood up to Davis. I had defeated the spider. And most of all, I had escaped the wizard.

And what was a dragon, even a three-headed one, compared to Manannan?

I stood. I would continue with my plan to travel to Daventry. I would find my family, and I would do whatever I could to help them, even if I wasn't sure what that was at the moment.


	11. Preparation

June 28th \- July 2nd,1559

_“How I would get home I still wasn’t sure.”_

_-Alexander, King’s Quest Companion_

I could have teleported but chose to walk back instead. By the time I finally returned to the town, night had drained the world of color. The blackness was pierced with light spilling from the tavern door and windows. Shouting and raucous laughter sounded from within.

I rounded the building and knocked at the back. Edith answered and let me in.

She regained her seat and prompted, “We were getting rather worried! Glad to see you unhurt. I take it you found the cave?”

“Yes. I drowned the spider, and the Oracle is still there, though it will take some time before she is again at full strength," I reported.

For a few seconds there was no response to my claim. Then she said, "Well then. Don't just stand there, come and get something to eat." I realized I'd been standing as if I was back in Manannan's study awaiting an order.

I took a step toward the hearth to obey, then stopped. "My family… I have to get to Daventry as soon as possible. They're in danger… a dragon… the Oracle said my path would open with the rising dawn. Are there any ships due in tomorrow?" My voice trailed off as I lifted my gaze from the floor to meet her eyes.

"I don’t think so, but that may not be what the Oracle meant. There’s a ship named the_ Rising Dawn _that makes port here regularly. Liliana will know when they’re expected back. While we wait…" she gestured at the pot bubbling above the fire.

This time I gratefully accepted the bowl of soup she dipped out and, eschewing the table and chairs, sank to the hearth as I had often done in the wizard's house to eat my meals. Edith didn’t ask any further questions about the Oracle, letting me eat in silence.

The stones of the hearth were different than those in the wizard’s kitchen, but they gave off the same comforting warmth. And while their stage had drastically changed, the shadows flickered and danced their familiar routine to the same beat of popping embers and crackling flames. I set the now-empty bowl aside and drowsily watched them until they coalesced into the utter blackness of sleep.

The touch on my shoulder was gentle, but it might have been a hot coal the way I jerked from it. I caught myself on the hearth. I really needed to stop waking up like that, though at least I hadn’t fallen to the floor this time. The fire had burned low, and the common room was quiet.

“Sorry,” apologized Liliana, who had quickly pulled back her hand. “I thought you’d be more comfortable in a bed. Though Grandma said you wanted to talk to me?”

Daventry. Alexander. The names banished my residual sleepiness, and I nodded. “When is the _Rising Dawn_ scheduled to make port here?”

She thought for a moment. “A week or two. But she would be one of the last ships I would recommend taking passage on. From what I’ve overheard while the crew is here getting drunk, I don’t much trust her Captain.”

“I don’t think I have much choice. I need to get to Daventry as soon as possible.”

“You found the Oracle, then?” asked Liliana.

I recounted my battle against the spider, and the Oracle’s warning of the coming danger to my family. I said nothing of their names or mine; this new identity was too tenuous and fragile. If I didn’t tell them, they couldn’t refute it, and I could still entertain the idea that it might actually be true.

I know that night I dreamed of my parents and sister, but more than that I cannot recall. The next morning I did not jolt awake but instead hovered between sleep and wakefulness. My consciousness drifted between the two like a floating soap bubble falling to the ground, only to be swept upwards again by a sudden air current. But the memory of a word was poking more and more insistently at the delicate walls of my bubble. Finally, it popped, pulling me entirely into the waking world.

Prince. Prince Alexander. And my parents hadn’t been just Graham and Valanice, but King Graham and Queen Valanice. I quickly abandoned any further consideration on that front. They were my family, and they needed my help. For now, that’s all I could wrap my head around, and all that mattered.

I had potentially only a week until the _Rising Dawn_ was expected to make berth here, which meant a week to prepare to take on a dragon. Which meant more magic, which in turn meant returning to the wizard’s house. I rolled over in the bed and burrowed deeper under my blanket.If I focused on listening, I could hear the cries of seagulls and shouting from the men working down at the docks.

Well, no point in delaying what had to be done. I rose and put on the clothes Liliana had taken in for me. They were simple, no different than I had seen many of the townspeople wearing, but in better shape and better fitting than anything I had ever worn before. Truly, I owed Liliana and Edith much.

I spent the entire morning combing Manannan’s library and laboratory for books pertaining to dragons and magic. What I found was not encouraging. While dragons were rare, they were also tough to kill. Most had hides that were impervious to both magic and sword. One book claimed that the only definitive way to kill one would be to strike through the eye to reach the brain. Unfortunately, their propensity for breathing fire made this problematic. Given that I had no weapons training, this seemed beyond impossible even if my dragon had only one brain rather than three.

The most helpful spells I could find were in _The Sorcery Of Old_. Invisibility was an obvious choice. There was no spell to magically grant me the fighting skills of a seasoned warrior, or enchant an arrow to fly true at a dragon’s eye. I did find a spell that would cause a deep sleep to those nearby, but whether or not it would work on a dragon was questionable. If it did then perhaps I could kill it in its sleep. In the end, I decided to put together as many of the legible spells as I could. Who knew what would be useful.

The list of ingredients I would need was sizable. Toad spittle, nightshade juice, and some others were on the wizard’s shelves in the laboratory, but components such as mistletoe would require some searching of the Llewdorian countryside. Cactus would mean a long walk to the desert.

It wasn’t until I noticed one of the spells calling for ‘one smooth rounded stone of unusual color’ that I remembered the object the Oracle had given me. I pulled it out and held it up the nearest torch. The torchlight reflected strangely through the honey-colored and semitransparent ‘stone’. Smooth and round, it was precisely what I needed for the ‘Teleportation at Random’ spell. Oracle indeed.

I recalled then, too, that the Oracle had been waiting for me to “break” the wizard’s magic. I hadn’t just broken the Oracle free of its imprisonment. I had weakened or broken all of Manannan’s magic, like the spell to keep the torches in the laboratory always burning. Liliana had sensed it, that morning afterward, even if she hadn’t known exactly what it was.

During the next two days, I spent hours on my own in the woods or at the beach, reading and researching anything I thought might be helpful and searching for ingredients. I found enough for three more spells: the sleeping one, one to create a thunderstorm, and a third which imbued the amber stone with the ability to teleport me short distances. _The Sorcery Of Old_ would not budge from its bookstand, so I was forced to leave it and return to the laboratory to perform the spells.

In the mornings, I slipped out before dawn to watch the sunrise, just as I had always done. Only now, I was watching with sand below my feet rather than mountain stone. A small difference, and yet so significant as well. I could walk over to the docks and watch the fishermen prepare their boats, even struck up a conversation with them if I’d cared to. I could read right after breakfast, or in the middle of the afternoon, or whenever else I desired. I could read under whichever tree looked most comfortable or had a good view of the ocean. This was freedom - intoxicating, and overwhelming, freedom.

I continued to help at the tavern, a task I welcomed. It not only helped Liliana and Edith, who had been so kind to me, but the familiarity of kitchen work helped to balance out the strangeness of my rapidly expanding world.

Three days after my escape, I was in the middle of such work. Edith had just finished telling me another of her tales. In the silence that followed, I finally asked the question I had been working up to all evening. At the wizard’s house, I had avoided questions at all costs. It had been far better to be invisible.

“What do you know of Daventry?”

“Hmm. Recently, not all that much, really. Ships don’t stop there as much as they used to.“ Edith said. “Heard they had some mirror that could tell the future, but if they had that, wouldn’t that have helped them avoid the dragon?”

Our conversation was interrupted by angry shouting from the common room. I ignored it at first, having discovered such shouting was not unusual, but then I caught the word ‘wizard’. I moved closer to the doorway.

“ - know he’s here, and we won’t have it. The wizard’ll have taught him all sorts of dark magic - ”

“Even if he is, you think Liliana would have him under her roof if he were dangerous?” I recognized Fent’s voice.

Old Rufus chimed in with, “And what does she know? I’m telling you, the wizard’s not gone and we’re all in for it. Especially with you lettin’ that boy hang around! Should leave him well enough alone-”

“Quiet!” shouted Liliana. “The wizard is gone. The boy is not dangerous, and if anything, you should be thanking him!”

“Davis said-”

“Davis, as usual, is trying to stir up trouble. In any case, he’s leaving in a few days. But he’s been through enough, I won’t have you lot bothering him while he’s here. Now, I’m closing. I think you’ve all had enough to drink for one evening.”

“I’m not - “

“You heard her, Tom.” said Fent. “We’re leaving.”

Chairs scraped, boots pounded the floor, the front door slammed, and then all was quiet. I pushed open the kitchen door and found Liliana at the bar, collecting mugs. I grabbed several more as I said, “I don’t want to cause you any trouble. I’ll leave.”

Liliana put down the glass she’d been holding. “It’s fine. Really, I’ve been running this place long enough to know how to handle that lot.”

“I need to leave for a little while anyway, out to the desert. There’s something I need to get, for a spell.”

She frowned. “The desert’s dangerous. I mean, I know you can do magic, but there’s a gorgon named Medusa that lives there.”

Of course. Nothing was ever simple. That term, though - gorgon. Where had I heard the name before? Something in the _Mythical Beasts_ book…

“I’ll be fine.”  
  


I left early the next morning, wanting to avoid being seen after the events of the previous day. I headed to the shop I had frequented before as there were a few spell ingredients I would only be able to obtain by purchasing them. The storekeeper’s son was manning the counter once again.

“Hello again,” he greeted me. “You’re him, aren’t you? From up the mountain? Did you really turn him into a cat?”

“Yes, sir. He shouldn’t be a threat anymore.”

“I knew it!” His cheerful demeanor suddenly turned apprehensive as he asked, “You’re - you’re not going to - you know, follow in his footsteps or anything, right?”

“Never!” My answer came out more forcefully than I meant to.

After a moment’s pause, he smiled again and continued. “Sorry, I’m just rambling on… can I help you get anything?”

“Salt, lard, and a leather pouch, please.”

“Coming right up.” He moved efficiently around the shelves, selecting my items. “Oh! Was that fish oil for magic? To turn him into a cat?”

“Yes, sir.” I began pulling out my money pouch to pay.

“Glad to have helped, then. Oh, no charge.” He placed the items on the counter. “All yours, with thanks from my father and I.”

“Thank you,” I said as I added the items to my increasingly heavy bag. As I headed out, he asked, “Heard you were leaving. Where you headed?”

“Home,” I answered, and ducked out the door.

Teleporting as far west as possible would have put me too close to the Davis’ hideout.Instead, I teleported to the base of the mountain and started westward from there. I had a long trek in front of me; the desert was more than a day’s walk.

No stares; nobody whispering as I passed them on the street. No questions from loquacious shopkeepers. Just trees, sun, and a small measure of peace. I had planned to teleport back to town once night fell, but the weather was warm enough that I instead found a soft bit of ground under a tree. Despite having nothing more than my pack for a pillow, I slept soundly.

At first, the changes to my surroundings were noticeable but gradual - fewer and spindlier trees, a yellowing to the foliage color. The second day, the difference became more pronounced. As the trees finally gave way to scrubby grassland, I pulled out the map and a hand mirror I had taken from the wizard’s house. I kept a sharp eye out for any movement but saw none.

Eventually, the dry ground could not support even the feeblest of grass or shrub. The earth grew softer under my feet, and walking became more difficult. With the shade of the trees far behind me, the heat became a burden.

I kept walking, and the ground became hillier. I started to see small patches of scrub again. I headed where they seemed the thickest. Plants meant water, which hopefully meant cacti.

The ground rose on either side until I found myself in a large gully, its walls several feet taller than myself. The gully dead-ended ahead of me, and at the foot of the far wall, I finally found my goal in the form of a small cactus nor more than a few handbreadths wide.

The sides of the gully were ragged, and the jutting rock provided plenty of places for someone to hide. I froze as movement flashed out of the corner of my eye. Before I had time to aim the mirror toward it, a lizard darted into view and disappeared among the rocks.

Dried reptile skin was also an ingredient I was missing. Perhaps I would be able to find one from a lizard, but the false alarm had me on edge. If I couldn’t find one quickly after retrieving the cactus, I would leave.

I hurried forward only to stop short as the clatter of rock against rock echoed through the gully. Squeezing my eyes shut, I panned the mirror behind and around me. All was quiet; I opened my eyes to slits. Nothing but scrub and stone. Probably just another lizard.

Except - one small shadow, protruding from a larger shadow, was moving. Wriggling. A shadow hand reached out and pulled it back, but it was too late. Medusa’s hair had given her away.

I took the last few steps to the cactus and kneeled as if I hadn’t seen anything. I lodged the mirror tight between my chest and one knee, out of sight, leaving my hands free to saw at the cactus. My knife did little actual cutting. My entire focus was on listening for anything above the pounding of my own heart.

There! The slight crunch of shifting sand as it was disturbed by a footstep. This time whirling the mirror out behind me resulted in far more than silence. The sound of breaking glass was followed by a piercing scream. I dropped the mirror to cover my ears, but it did nothing to help. The sound continued on and on, never-ending. It intensified until it consumed everything; I could see nothing, feel nothing, could hear nothing else. When it finally stopped as suddenly as it began, I found myself on the ground with a painful ringing in my ears. The sand around me glittered with shards of broken glass, and I had to be careful not to cut myself as I stood.

_Mythical Beasts_ had been true to its word. Medusa had been turned to stone, her clawed hands still outstretched toward me. Even now, I avoided looking at her cursed face.

Twenty minutes later, the ringing in my ears had finally stopped, and I had both cactus and an almost whole snakeskin. Lizard, snake, the spell didn’t specify, so I took them both and teleported back to town, glad to be leaving the heat of the desert behind.

The kitchen at Liliana’s was empty, as was the common room. Several chairs and a table lay overturned, and the front door hung open.

“Enough!” Liliana shout from outside.

A small crowd stood gathered in the street, centered around Davis and a tall, sandy-haired man I didn’t recognize. Davis was picking himself up off the ground, one side of his face reddening.

“Really, Davis, breaking into my home?” said the newcomer.

“I’m not the one you should be questionin’, Alton,” replied Davis. “Maybe you should be asking your wife why she’s being letting a handsome young man hang around.”

Alton took a step toward him. “You-”

“I said, enough!” Liliana turned to address the crowd. “I know you all still have doubts. But believe me when I say the wizard no longer has any power here. His rules and laws are meaningless now.” Alton looked over at her in surprise but didn’t interrupt. “I won’t stand by and watch the likes of Davis and his crowd continue to poison this town. Not when we have a chance to start over, to become the community we once were. To be proud of our home, as we were generations ago.”

Someone stepped forward out of the crowd. “She’s right. Davis, you no longer have the wizard’s protection, and we won’t you let take his place.” A woman left the crowd to stand beside him, followed by two others.

Davis searched the crowd for an ally, fists clenching at his sides, but found none. “Fine,” he spat. “No point in stayin’ round here.” The crowd opened up to let him through has he stalked off.

Half a dozen conversations erupted at once, breaking the silence. Liliana spotted me peeking out and pulled Alton along by his hand toward the door.

Back in the kitchen, Alton looked back and forth between Liliana and me. He crossed his arms and scowled. “So. I see my replacement’s even wearing my clothes.”

A towel flew across the room and hit him in the chest. “Like you believed Davis for even a second,” said Liliana.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Think I need some proof.” Alton broke into a smile as he swept her up and kissed her. Liliana kissed him back for a moment, then swatted at him with one hand.

“Alton, not now!”

“Ok, ok, but only because I want to hear about what’s going on with the wizard.”

He put her down, and she turned to me. “Sorry. As you’ve probably figured out, my husband’s ship came in early. Alton, this is Gwydion. He’s the one who took down the wizard.”

He held out his hand. “An honor to meet you, then.” I shook his hand as I’d seen others do, and he continued, “I look forward to hearing all about it.”

“Hey, Liliana! You open?” someone shouted from the common room. From the sound of it, most of the crowd had decided to continue their conversations over a drink.

“Just a moment,” called Liliana. To me, she said, “Davis was in your room, searching for something. I don’t know if anything’s missing.”

“I have all my things -” I cut off as the kitchen door opened, and Edith entered carrying Jadon. “- with me,” I finished, though I doubt anyone heard me over the sound of Jadon’s excited shrieking as his father took him and twirled him around.

Liliana started to head towards the common room, but she stopped and spun back towards me. “Oh! I almost forgot with everything else going on. The _Rising Dawn_ arrived yesterday. Her Captain said he’d be willing to take on a passenger.”

She disappeared through the door to the common room but popped her head back in a second later. “He’s just walked in, actually. Alton, would you run over and see if Cierra can come in early? We’re just about full already.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” replied Alton. To Jadon, he said, “Come with me, First Mate. We’ve been given a most important quest.”

I followed Liliana back to the common room. She motioned toward a group sitting at a table near the entrance. “The one in black’s Captain Reid, if you’re sure you want to do this.”

A few of Captain Reid’s men had already pulled out several dice and were engrossed in their game. The others, including the one Liliana had singled out as the Captain, sat watching the crowd. I glanced back at Liliana, but she had already been called away and was busy behind the bar.

Captain Reid looked up as I approached.

“You the one who wants passage?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. I need to get to Daventry as soon as possible.”

“Hm. So happens we’re headed that way, but I don’t make a habit of taking on passengers. You got enough to make it worth my while?”

I still had the money pouch from Davis in my bag. I had no sooner pulled it out than the Captain snatched it from my hand and opened it. He pocketed the gold and silver pieces, leaving the copper ones. Handing it back to me, he said, “This will do. We leave this afternoon. You’re late, and we leave without you.”

He paused, then looked back at me. “Unless you’re gonna bring drinks, we’re done.”

I left the common room and headed up to the room Liliana had given me. The place was a mess; Davis had been thorough in his search. I would have put it to rights, but I had little time if I was going to make the spells before the _Rising Dawn_ left.

I pulled out the map and tapped the top of the mountain as I always did. Until now, the map had always deposited me at the base of the mountain. This time, however, I found myself right by the wizard’s front door. I could only surmise that more of his spells were fading. Whatever the cause, I wasn’t going to complain about not having to climb that path again.

After the trip to the desert, I now had all of the ingredients for the last two legible spells. The first was for invisibility and started smoothly. The result of the spell was a cream meant to be stored in a jar. What the spellbook failed to mention was that once I waved the magic wand over it, the jar itself quickly became invisible. I solved this by repurposing a burlap bag from the kitchen that happened to fit snugly around it.

Next, I moved onto the creation of a soft dough that would enable me to understand the language of creatures. The dough had to be put in my ears for it to work. Given that dough is not a particularly pleasant substance to squish in one’s ears, I doubted the practicality of the spell until I finished the incantation and waved the wand. The feeling of the dough vanished, and my hearing returned to normal; yet, reaching up, I could still feel the dough with my hands.

“Shockingly, you seemed to have actually managed to do those spells correctly. So you should be able to understand me when I promise you that I will make you suffer for this.”

The voice was a chill down my spine. It was the voice of my childhood, unchanged, and it gripped me tighter than any of his spells ever had.

“What, exactly, is your plan? To rule over Llewdor yourself?” The derisive laugh that followed sounded so human I was sure he must have found a way to reverse the spell.

I turned. Manannan was perched on the bottom stair in - to my great relief - cat form. I tried to summon that other Gwydion, the one who had stood up to Davis, but here, back in the wizard’s house and under his gaze once again, I couldn’t find him. Only fear and dread that pushed everything else aside and rooted me in place. All I managed was a weak, “I - I don’t have to tell you anything. Not anymore.”

“No… not staying here.” He curled his tail close behind him as he turned his head to glance at his desk, where the list of dates still lay. “Ah. You think you can return to Daventry. Probably nothing left of it by now but a bit of rock and ash. And even if they did manage to survive the dragon, there’s no welcome for you there. They don’t want you; they _sold_ you.”

“I’ll find out for myself. The dragon… was that you?” The thought of him being responsible for the danger my family was in, right when I finally had the chance to find them… it finally reawakened that mysterious other me. _He’s just a cat now. Nothing to throw now but empty threats._

“Hmm. As much as I would love to take credit for such chaos and destruction, no. I have been quite enjoying the show, however.”

I had had quite enough of this.

“I’m leaving. Get out of my way.”

His ears flattened. “You dare order _me_-”

I lunged for him, but even distracted with anger he was too quick. He darted up the stairs and vanished into the room above, his voice echoing down after him.

“I _will_ reverse the spell, Gwydion. Don’t forget my promise.”

As far as I knew, that wasn’t possible. But then, the sum of what I knew about magic wasn’t much. It would be safest to find him and deal with him more permanently. But I didn’t have time. He had already evaded my search attempts once, and if I didn’t hurry and get to back to town, I would miss my only chance of getting to Daventry in time.

Liliana was piling fruit and cheese onto a platter when I returned to the kitchen. Alton was playing with Jadon, chasing him around the room. Seeing me, Liliana said, “I missed you leaving. When do you go?”

“Now.”

“Just give me one second, and I’ll walk over with you.” She leaned through the open doorway to the common room. “Cierra, I’ll be down at the docks for a few minutes, ok?”

“We’ll go too,” said Alton.

As we walked to the ship, I said, “You should know. Manannan’s still up there. Still a cat, so I don’t think he can do much, but he says he’ll be able to be human again. Probably just trying to scare me, though.”

Alton nodded solemnly. “We’ll keep an eye out for him.”

The _Rising Dawn, _with three masts, was larger than most of the other ships I’d seen. We stopped as we reached her pier.

“Good luck, Gwydion. You’re always welcome if you’re ever in Llewdor again,” said Liliana.

“Alexander,” I replied.

“What?”

“My real name, the one my parents gave me, I mean, is Alexander.”

“Well then, good luck, Alexander,” said Alton.

I nodded, then added, “Thank you. For everything.”

I looked back at them as I reached the gangplank. They all waved, even little Jadon. I waved back, then turned and boarded the _Rising Dawn_.


	12. Sea Voyage

July 2nd \- July 17th 1559

_“I was going home, if I could survive the journey!”_

_-Alexander, King’s Quest Companion_

The deck of the _Rising Dawn_ was a hub of activity as sailors went about their duties. I had read little of sailing, so their tasks were mostly foreign to me. I moved to the railing. Looking out at Llewdor, I wondered if I would ever see it again. A familiar figure threading his way through the bustle of workers caught my eye. Davis. What was he doing here? My hand went to the wand inside my bag, but I didn’t draw it out. He stopped at the end of gangplank but made no attempt to board, nor did he look up at me. A few seconds later, Captain Reid left the ship to join him. As they talked, I toyed with the idea of becoming a fly to eavesdrop on them.

Reid counted out a few coins and handed them to Davis. Before I could decide whether it was worth using the potion for, Reid was already reboarding. He paused at the top to say something to one of the nearby sailors, who nodded and glanced at me. As I watched Davis leave to walk back down the dock, he spotted me and smirked.

I stood, frozen by indecision. Between Liliana’s warning and the discussion I had just witnessed, taking passage on this ship seemed a mistake. Should I get off? Assuming I even had the choice anymore. The sailor Reid had been talking to was standing next to the gangplank, ostensibly working with the rope he held.

But I was confident this ship was where the Oracle meant me to be. Not to mention I had little money for another fare, and I doubted I would be getting my money back.

I tried to pretend I had noticed nothing as I gazed out at the docks, debating. Before I had reached a decision, I heard an order to pull in the gangplank and raise the anchor. In what seemed no time at all, the ship was suddenly moving. I still had the map and pulled it out. I was uncertain if it would work once we crossed the eastern edge, and we were nearly there.

_If you look for it._

The Oracle’s words flitted through my head again, and the memory of her beautiful voice calmed my fears a little. She was a powerful being, of that I had no doubt; but did I trust her guidance?

We sailed off the edge of the map. The image of Llewdor vanished to be replaced by a colorless ocean chart. No going back now.

I was left alone as Llewdor continued to recede from view. Despite my misgivings, I couldn’t help but feel my spirits rise. The sky was clear, the sea was sparkling, and Manannan’s mountain grew smaller until it was barely more than a dark smudge on the horizon. Then it was gone, and I felt a tension release I hadn’t been aware of holding.

“This way, boy. Cap’n wants t’ see ye.”

I turned to find one of the men that had been with Captain Reid in the tavern. A bit shorter than me, he was almost as tall as I was, with lanky arms and legs that seemed stretched just a bit too far. Graying hair peeked out of a brown knitted cap. His face matched his body, long and narrow.

He turned and left before I had a chance to reply. I followed. He led me down a ladder to the deck below, then to a closed door. He opened it and stuck his head in just long enough to announce, “The boy.”

I could feel his eyes on me as I slipped past him and into the room beyond. I was dismayed when he followed me in before shutting the door.

Captain Reid was leaning over his desk, studying the map laid on it. He straightened and crossed his arms behind his back as he said, “Hard to imagine such a slip of a boy causin’ so much trouble.”

He nodded at the sailor behind me, and suddenly an iron grip held the wrist I had half-hidden inside my bag. I recoiled from the touch, but unlike with Kory, there was no freeing myself this time. The sailor was stronger than he looked. He twisted his grip, and I had no choice but to release the wand. He pulled my arm behind me as he took my bag and handed it to Reid, who sifted through its contents.

“Heard quite an interesting tale from Davis. Claimed you paid your fare using the money you’d stolen from him. Had to pay him half your fare back; rather not have him end our business arrangements if the wizard does return.” He pulled out the jar with the storm brew and the vial with the rose petal essence, examined them, and returned them to the bag.

“Looks like I wasted my money. Didn’t believe the talk, but this...” he continued as he pulled out the wand.

He returned it and looked at me. “Looks to me like Llewdor just became a great deal less profitable. Seeing as that’s your fault, I’m going to have to break our agreement.” He gave me another considering look-over. “Should be able to get a reasonable price for you, at least. Until we reach the slave markets, you work for me. And if I get even the slightest hint that you are betraying me like you did your former master, I’ll cut my losses and send you the bottom. Clear?“

I had ignored Liliana’s warnings, I had ignored my own misgivings, and the price was to be tumbled right back into the web I had just escaped from. It seemed no matter how much I hacked at them, I was forever fated to struggle in the choking strands of enslavement.

Before my visit to the Oracle’s cave, I might have been more resigned to the apparent inevitability of that fate. But the fire of anger that visit had awoken still flickered within me, and Reid’s words fed it until I struggled to keep it small and hidden. Then the years of training took over, and I slipped back into the role I knew well how to play. If the Captain had noticed the small moment of defiance, he gave no sign of it.

“Yes, sir,“ I said, the perfect note of resignation and subservience in my voice.

“Yes, _Captain_,” the sailor behind me corrected.

“Yes, Captain. Very clear.”

Reid turned back to his desk, waving his hand to dismiss us.

As I left the cabin, I promised myself that this would remain a playact. I would not - could not - let myself fall back entirely into the mindset of a powerless slave. I knew who I was now. I was Alexander, a prince of Daventry. For my family, for all the people in Daventry, I would remember that. And for myself.

I was taken down to the hold, where the only source of light was the grate above. Even during the day, most of the various crates, barrels, and other goods stored there were hidden in shadow. At night it was nearly pitch black. As much as I disliked them, Manannan’s light orbs would have been useful if I had known how to create them. As I lay curled up on wooden planks that night, I realized I had no reason to fear that I would lose myself to the bleak numbness I had lived in before. I was too angry with too many people.

My anger at Manannan was an old wound. Now that I had broken through that numbness, it bled afresh. Yet like one can’t resist poking at a cut in their mouth with their tongue, I jabbed at it repeatedly, brooding over all the misery he had inflicted on me. I thought of the others who had served the wizard before me, and how similar their lives must have been. Except theirs had been cut short. He had been doing this for a terribly long time, and I regretted that I had not done more to avenge us all.

My thoughts circled and tangled, feeding off each other as the long night passed and as I counted up my grievances. The Oracle had gotten me into this plight. _If you look for it_… well, there was nothing there to look for, nothing but my foolishness in trusting her. I could no longer recall why I had found her voice so enchanting.

I rediscovered an old hurt that my parents had either willingly given me away or hadn’t protected me well enough. And Rosella… I should have shared in all she had had.

Nor did I spare myself. I hated how much I missed the wizard’s house, with its familiar corridors and rooms I knew so well. At least I’d had a bed. And books. And a warm spot by the fire.

I hated how I still startled so easily, suddenly terrified the wizard had found me. Hated that I couldn’t shake the memory of his last words to me. When sleep finally came, it was no haven from them, for they repeated themselves in nightmares.

The next morning my fury had cooled. I reminded myself that all was not yet lost; I had been in worse situations. I needed to focus, bide my time, and watch for any opportunity to retrieve my possessions.

A sailor named Kaiden walked me through my daily tasks. Every mealtime I was sent to the kitchen where I was to retrieve the Captain’s food and deliver it to him in his quarters. If he had any other errands for me, I was to report back to Kaiden and assist him in his work.

Kaiden was maybe twice my age and twice my weight, and all of it muscle. I disliked him at first though no fault of his own; he was merely included in my displeasure for the whole situation.

Initially, Kaiden seemed indifferent at having been tasked with my care. He rarely spoke other than to instruct me in our work. But as the days passed, he gradually started telling me more about his crew-mates and life on the ship.

At one point, he revealed our destination was indeed Daventry; Reid had not deceived me in that regard. When I questioned him about what interest Reid had in Daventry, he had no answer. I couldn’t tell if he was being secretive or simply didn’t know himself.

Every night I was returned to the hold to sleep. It didn’t take me long to realize I wasn’t theonly resident; the tiny scurrying of mouse feet echoed throughout the dark hold.

At first, the mice kept their distance, but as they grew more accustomed to my presence, they grew bolder. As they wandered close, I thought I dreamed, for they seemed to be speaking. Then I remembered the spelled dough in my ears and realized I had been left with one spell still at my disposal.

I listened drowsily as they chattered about finding anything good to eat, or if a cat would be brought on board.

At least one of them was horrified at the thought. “No! Don’t scare me like that!”

_You and me both, little mouse. _I had had enough of cats for a while.

They all went silent until another changed the subject with, “You know the pirate’s buried treasure?”

“What about it?”

“Well, I just heard the Captain talking about with one of his men. He said it was buried… now let me see if I can remember. Oh yeah! He said it was buried near a lone palm tree. From the palm, you walk five paces to the east and then start digging.”

Their chatter continued, but they said nothing further about the treasure. I suspected, though, that I just discovered the reason for our mysterious stop at Daventry. Tomorrow, I decided, I would leave some of my allotted rations for my tiny companions.

One morning, I was instructed to help the ship’s carpenter with maintaining a section of the ship’s planking. To do this, we drove fiber between the planks and coated it with pitch. While flammable, he explained, the sticky resin was waterproof and helped to keep the ship sealed. That gave me an idea.

The next time Kaiden send me on an errand, I took a detour and stole a little of the pitch,which I wrapped well in rags. I stuffed this wad into the bottom of a bucket and hid it under an assortment of brushes and other cleaning tools.

For the next few days, I took it with me when I collected the captain’s meals. Neither the cook nor the assistant ever questioned me about it, and my persistence finally paid off when I chanced upon an empty galley.

A brick enclosure had been built in the middle of the room and filled with sand. The galley stove was centered in this sand as a precaution against fire. After dumping out the cleaning tools, I shoved the pitch, rags and all, into the fire heating the stove. Then I closed the flue and returned the tools to my bucket. In all, it took no more than twenty seconds.

The result was quickly evident in the thick, black smoke filling the galley. I left at a run and shouted “Fire!” at the first sailor I came across.

Fire on a ship is a constant, and potentially devastating, threat. Cries of “Fire!” were soon ringing out all over the ship. As I darted down the passageway that led to the captain’s quarters, the captain himself sprinted past, taking no notice of me as I flattened myself against the wall to let him by.

He also had not taken the time to shut or lock the door to his cabin, and I slipped in unnoticed. His coat had been left hanging on the chair by his desk. I searched the pocket I had seen him place the key in, but there was nothing. None of the remaining pockets nor the desk drawer held the key either. If Reid had it on his person, this was a wasted opportunity.

I glanced over at the chest. I was so close. I scanned the room, trying to think of the most likely places to search. My eyes fell on the chest again. It wasn’t lined up perfectly against the wall, as if it had been pulled forward on one side a bit. Had it always been positioned like that? I couldn’t remember, but if the Reid had been going through it…

I tugged on the lid. To my great surprise, the chest opened. I’d been trying to solve a problem I didn’t even have.

The only voice I could hear now was Reid’s, and it sounded angry. No doubt he had realized the only fire was the one still safely contained in the galley stove. I needed to hurry.

I found my pouch of sleeping powder in the chest and pulled out two wadded bits of cloth from my bucket. The first was empty, and I dumped the sleeping powder into it. The second was full of flour I’d taken from the ship’s stores. The flour went into the pouch, the pouch back into the chest, and the lid closed. Hopefully, it would be enough to fool the Reid if he went through my things again.

I started to put both cloth pieces back into my bucket but hesitated. If I was caught, or suspected of having tampered with the fire, I might be searched. I needed a hiding spot.

Under the bed had worked last time, but this time, I knew of no convenient loose boards. I ran my hand along the underneath of the bed. Wooden slats supported the mattress rather than rope. A small ledge supported the slats, and in between each pair of slats was a small opening. I stuffed the wad of cloth holding the powder onto the ledge between two slats.

By this time, the yelling had ceased. I left the room and slipped into the flow of crew members returning to work.

As it turned out, I could have saved myself the trouble of hiding the powder. No one accused me of anything and the whole event forgotten by evening. The next morning I retrieved it by quickly slipping the pouch out of its hiding place and into my boot while Reid’s back was turned. Later I found it a new hiding place among the crates in the hold.

Now that I had the powder, I allowed myself to consider the future. If I did manage to escape Reid and rescue Rosella, what then? Would I be welcomed back as a long-lost son? Turned away? I was far from being a real prince of any sort, and not at all what they would probably expect. What use could I possibly be to them, unless they needed another servant?

My thoughts drifted back to the conversation I had overheard between Liliana and Fent.

“_He barely talks or even looks at you,_” she’d said.

I didn’t want that, didn’t want to return to the Gwydion I’d been when I had first met her. But if I couldn’t escape from Reid, how long could I resist? How long could I hold out hope before this act became my reality once again?

Or would I become more like Reid or Davis? More like Manannan? The memory of the standoff with Davis, how I had intentionally been imitating the wizard, was unsettling. I wanted to be nothing like him. Yet at the same time, a small part of me was proud of how I had managed to stand up for myself. But at what cost? Where was the tipping point between doing what was necessary to protect myself, and starting to become him?

There was a road, somewhere. A road that led not to Gwydion, or to Manannan, but between the two. To someone like Liliana, or Alton, or Edith. Taking my freedom, getting to Daventry, were the first steps down it. But after that, I didn’t know how to walk it.

Two weeks into our sea voyage, I was diligently scrubbing the decks when a “Land ho!” rang out from the crow’s nest. I stood and studied the horizon but saw nothing.

Kaiden, leaning against the railing, looked up from the piece of wood he had been carving. “Give it a few minutes. He can see further up there than we can.”

I nodded and returned to work. Sure enough, a few minutes later, I tried again and could make out a smudge of green and gray topped with white. Mountains.

Darron, the sailor who had taken me to the captain the day we left Llewdor, approached. “We’re nearing Daventry. Cap’n wants him down in the hold while we’re there,” he said.

Kaiden nodded, and I followed Darron back to the hatch that led to the hold. I made no complaint as I descended the ladder.

“Bran! Keep guard and make sure the kid stays put,” Darron instructed a passing sailor.

“Right,” Bran said as he glanced down at me through the hatch. He said nothing after Darron left, which was fine with me.

Out of sight of the hatch, I found the bundle of sleeping powder by touch. The spell required a dank, dark place to cast it, and there was no question about the hold fulfilling both requirements.

Once I heard the splash of the anchor and felt the ship slow to a stop, I opened the bundle and poured the powder onto the floor.

“Slumber, henceforth!”

I gripped the now empty cloth tightly in my hand as I concentrated on the sounds coming from above. At first, all seemed normal - I could hear Reid shouting orders and the footsteps of someone walking by the hatch.

“Bran, you lazy-”

Darron stopped mid-sentence as a thunk sounded from above. I listened hard for another few seconds. All I could hear were the ambient noises of any sailing ship - the creaking of wooden planks, the slap of water against the hull, and the scuttle of mice creeping among the surrounding crates.

My hand was starting to hurt from clutching the cloth so tightly. I relaxed it. The spell had worked, and it seemed I was well on my way to becoming a decent wizard myself. To have turned the tables again, to be the one with magic and the control once more - it was exhilarating. And frightening.

_Don’t get ahead of yourself, and move!_ I didn’t know how long the spell would last. I shook my head to clear it and moved to the ladder.

The thunking sound proved to have been Darron falling to the floor just beside the hatch. Bran was leaned up against the wall close by. Both were deeply asleep, Bran snoring softly. I stepped around them and went directly to the captain’s room. Reid, too, was soundly asleep, though he had managed to make it to his bed before collapsing. He was still wearing his coat, and I gingerly searched his pockets until I found the key to the chest. He hadn’t been so careless as to leave it unlocked a second time. I liberated the rest of my belongings, and underneath them found one of Manannan’s lamps, the ones I had overheard Davis selling. I took one.

The mountains I had seen had been capped with snow, and I knew enough to know it would be cold. I raided Reid’s closet, where I found and took a couple of shirts and another jacket.

I had already planned out the supplies I needed from the galley, so stuffing my bag there took little time. Finally, remembering the mice’s discussion, I grabbed a shovel on the way to the main deck.

Everywhere I went, members of the crew lay strewn about the floor, some with tools still in hand. There was no-one to prevent me from leaving; nothing between Daventry and me now but a stretch of sea. The water was calm, but even so, I didn’t care to try out swimming for the first time.

So once again, I soared the skies as an eagle, and repetition failed to dim the joy of flying. As I glided my way to shore, I spotted dark shapes under the water, and occasionally a fin broke the surface of the water. Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t know how to swim.

Below me, both shoreline and mountains extended endlessly into the distance in either direction. A thin strip of forest separated the base of the mountains from the beach. The only sign of civilization was an old pier, most of it long washed away.

Almost too soon, I was standing on the beach, human again.

If there was any movement on the ship, I couldn’t see it from this distance. I turned to look up at the mountains. I had finally reached Daventry, but to reach Rosella in time, I would have to climb to the other side.


	13. Daventry

July 17th \- July 18th, 1559

_“Instead I was overwhelmed by the devastation and destruction all around me.”_

_-Alexander, King’s Quest Companion_

If the palm tree the mice had described had been hard to find, I would have abandoned my plan to find the pirate’s treasure. I didn’t have time to go digging around for long. But one palm tree grew alone on the beach, clearly separated from the others. Counting out five paces to the east, I started digging. It didn’t take long before my shovel hit a solid surface rather than soft sand.

The chest was small, but when I opened it I found it filled to the brim with coins of various denominations and nationality. I wasted no time in scooping out several handfuls but left most in the chest. Coin is heavy. But if I needed any to finish my journey to Castle Daventry, I would have plenty. I tried not to think too hard about also needing it if I was unwelcome there.

I didn’t bother reburying the chest. I didn’t have the time, nor did I care to keep my theft a secret. Reid had broken our agreement, and I had no qualms about stealing from him. I turned toward my next task: getting further into Daventry. I noted the closest gap in the mountain range that loomed above me and started the long hike to the other side.

I discovered a worn trail that appeared to wind its way through a mountain pass, but it required more climbing than the path up to Manannan’s house. As I scrambled for one handhold after another, I decided I would be perfectly fine with never setting foot on a mountain again. Transforming into an eagle helped greatly with the toughest sections, but I used it sparingly as I had precious little left. If the pirates did decide to chase after me, they would have a difficult time without magic.

After clearing the tree line, I stopped to take a short rest and survey the land below me. Reid’s ship still floated offshore, but I saw no activity on it or at the beach. The sun was a finger’s breadth from the horizon. Strange, to watch it set over the ocean rather than rise.

The summer heat had driven the snow line high up the mountain, and the sunset was nothing but a memory by the time I reached the first patch of snow. I had never seen anything like it. I scooped up a handful and was immediately glad I had thought to take extra clothing from the pirates.

I pulled out the lamp and activated it. The light it emitted was weaker than I expected, though whether this was normal or due to the weakening of Manannan’s magic, I didn’t know. But between it and the full moon, I had enough light to continue.

The patches of snow grew larger until the entire landscape became engulfed in white. Between the change in elevation and the approaching night, the temperature had dropped dramatically. I had pulled on the stolen jacket but had no gloves or extra socks. I used a knife to tear strips off of one of the extra shirts. Some I stuffed into my boots until they were almost uncomfortably tight. I wrapped the rest around my hands.

I soon discovered trampling along in snow was exhausting, especially after a day spent clambering up a mountain. After stumbling and falling the second time, I admitted to myself that I had no choice but to rest.

When I found a small recess in the slope of one mountain, I stopped. Open to the sky, it was at least protected on two sides and would keep the worst of the wind off. I sat down holding the lamp in both hands. The heat coming off wasn’t much more than a candle but did warm my fingers a little.

I ate from the supplies I had stolen and then sat and watched the flicker of lamp flame. I was drowsy but afraid that if I fell asleep, I would fall prey to cold, pirates, or other dangers lurking in the dark. And yet, when a low growl interrupted the quiet night, I realized I had drifted deep into the twilight period that precedes sleep - when reality fragments and the bizarre becomes ordinary.

Had I truly heard something, or had my wearied mind imagined what I had already been fearing? I listened.

Nothing. But probably better to move on all the same.

Half an hour later I was relieved to finally find more leveled ground, though I still couldn’t see anything of the land beyond the mountain range. Glancing up at the moon, I tried to estimate how much longer I had until daylight. Not long. Then I was flat on my back, staring up at more of the sky than I had anticipated and trying to figure out why. Snow might be challenging to walk through, but at least it had cushioned my fall. Then I was being dragged through the snow by my boot.

I blinked snow out of my eyes and tried to focus on the creature pulling me. All I could discern was was the outline of a large, vaguely humanoid figure. A memory tickled in the back of my mind; I had read of a white-furred beast that lived in snowy mountains. I found myself surprisingly thankful to Manannan for having refused to let me exchange _Mythical Beasts_ for so long. This was a yeti.

I needed to break free. Now_._ We were approaching an opening in the cliffside; the yeti’s cave. If it dragged me in there, I wouldn’t be leaving. My pack was skimming along the top of the snow behind me. I flung it around so that it rested on my stomach and opened the flap. The map tumbled out. I started to snatch at it, but then other items began to fall out as well, and I had to sacrifice it to save everything else. I still had some rose petal essence left, but I couldn’t find it in the jumble of items.

My hand closed on something round. The teleportation stone. According to the spell, it would teleport me short distances, but there was no real way to control the destination. At the moment, anywhere was better than the cave we seconds away from entering.

The familiar sensation of teleportation washed over me. I was still laying on my back in the snow, but the yeti had vanished. It roared, and I spotted it clearly outlined against the darkness of the cave entrance. The stone had only transported me a short way, and the yeti had already seen me. I reached into the bag again, and this time, I found the vial holding the rose petal essence and, a second later, the eagle feather. The yeti was moving quickly; it had closed the distance between us by half. I unstoppered the vial, jammed the feather into it, and shouted the activation words.

The yeti’s look of surprise as I flew over its head is one I shall remember for a long time to come.

I wanted to put a sizable distance between me and the yeti before returning to human form. I flew on, cresting the slope that had thus far obscured the view of whatever lay beyond the mountains. On this side the pass, the ground dropped rapidly to reveal rolling hills carpeted with trees and swathes of quilted fields divided by low stone walls. Scattered lights twinkled in the darkness, marking the farmhouses and small hamlets. One grouping of lights far outshone the others - a town. And a short distance away, a tower of lights that could only be Castle Daventry at last.

My attention turned back to my immediate surroundings as I felt that magic sustaining my eagle form draining away. A few moments later, I was human again, the vial that had held the rose petal essence now empty. I would have to finish my descent the hard way.

The next few hours, thankfully, were uneventful. The trail I was following leveled out as dawn broke. As light and color returned to Daventry, they revealed a truth that had been hiding in the darkness. Night and distance had obscured it, twisted it into a reminder of what Daventry had once been. But daylight could not conceal the ravages of war so easily.

How many of those twinkling lights, so pretty from afar, had not been the comforting lights of a warm house but the smoldering remnants of it? Patches of forest lay bare with all greenery burned away - where any trees remained at all. I passed a field, no more than bare earth scorched to blackness. I had to pick my way around rocks that had once filled the gaps in its stone walls.

The narrow trail I had followed widened to become more of a road. I remained its only traveler, the sole witness to the devastation around me. Had I finally arrived, only to be too late?

Not far from the foot of the mountains, I came upon another soul at last, though not a human one. A small elderly creature - a gnome? - rocked in a wooden chair on the front porch of his house. A cane was propped up on the wall behind him.

I had been so focused on fighting a dragon, and on my family, I had given little thought to how I would approach anyone else.

_So… I just walk up and say ‘Hi, I'm the prince you may or may not be missing and by the way, I hear you have a dragon problem?’_

The gnome waved and preempted the entire problem. "Prince Alexander! Welcome home! Though I do rather wish it was under better circumstances."

_How did he know…?_ Well, that was a question for later. I had a dragon to find.

"Am I too late? Is the princess…?"

"Taken up not long ago, but you'll have to hurry. Turn around. There. In the clouds. Head toward them. You'll find a cave with stairs.“

I bowed my head. "Thank you."

The clouds he had pointed out were clustered unnaturally around one mountaintop in the range I had just left, though closer than the mountain pass I had used. As I headed toward them, I heard the gnome say something to himself about "Aye, written in the wind all right..."


	14. The Dragon

July 18th, 1559

_“Soon the whole population of Daventry tremored with the news of the dragon’s approach, and each homestead dwelt in terror.”_

_-King’s Quest IV Manual_

The stairs the gnome had mentioned were visible even from outside the cave opening. Peering up them, all I could see was a patch of lighter grey surrounded by blackness. I started up. Though they were crumbling and uneven, steps were an improvement over the path back in Llewdor.

The patch of grey turned out to be the rock wall where the stairs switchbacked to ascend in the opposite direction. Again I couldn’t make out anything other than a distant patch of light.

As I tackled this next section, I noticed how warm I was. The air felt heavy from the humid heat, far different than the warmth of the Llewdorian desert. The stone walls were wet with droplets of condensation.

The light gradually brightened, but I still couldn’t see the exit, just an endless white haze. The haze became a fog so thick I didn’t realize the stairs had ended until my foot came down hard, expecting a step that wasn’t there.

Trees materialized in the fog as I crept forward only to vanish just as quickly a few steps later. Most were severely burned, and a few still glowed orange, covered with embers rather than leaves. Rocks, too, littered my path, ranging in size from smaller than my fist to large enough to hide behind. I kept as close to the latter as I could, ready to dive for cover at the first sign of the dragon. I had the invisibility cream in my bag, but I didn’t know how long it would last.

A strange, harsh noise echoed throughout the fog, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. Laughter - but none made by a human throat.

“Wake, brothers. The sacrifice has been brought at last.”

I increased my pace and almost ran into a clearing free of fog. A clearing currently occupied with a remarkably large dragon.

I darted behind the nearest boulder, feeling fortunate it had been facing the other way. I peeked around one edge to get a better look.

Each of the dragon’s green scales shimmered faintly. Yellow spikes lined the crest of its back and tail, and sharp looking claws scored the earth as it lumbered to its feet. All three of its heads were busy watching a figure on the other side of the clearing - Rosella.

She was just as the Oracle had shown me, hands tied around a pole behind her, blond hair loose around her face. The only difference was that in the vision, she had been watching the dragon; now, she was staring at me.

For a moment, our eyes met. Then she tore her gaze from mine and focused on the dragon.

If ever there was a time to be invisible, this was it. I dropped my pack to the ground and pulled out the invisibility jar, but I had to take it out of its bag before I could get a good enough grip on the lid to open it.

The invisibility cream was thick, and at first, I despaired at how long it was going to take to cover my whole body well enough. But as I applied it, the invisibility began spreading, and I found I needed only to use it in small patches.

“My turn to eat this one.”

“You had the one before last! It is_ my_ turn!”

The invisibility expanded to my pack once I picked it up and it took two tries to retrieve the storm brew jar. My hands also being invisible didn’t help.

I glanced back at the dragon, which was still busy arguing with itself. Was I close enough? The storm brew was my only chance. Better to be sure.

I left my pack and stepped closer to the dragon, holding tight to the storm brew jar, which was now also invisible.

I halved the distance to the dragon. As I started to loosen the lid, the closest of the heads twisted in my direction.

“Brothers, I smell a human.”

I froze.

“Of course you smell a human, what do you think is in front of you?” replied the middle head.

“I know that, idiot brother. I meant a different one, a male one…”

The furthest head turned and audibly inhaled. “I smell nothing.”

“I have always had a better sense of smell than you,” said the first head as it searched for me, its eyes darting back and forth. Then they focused on my position.

I thew myself backward, and its jaws clamped shut right where I had been standing. The storm brew jar was wrenched from my grasp as I landed. I swept my hands over the ground, searching, but felt nothing except dirt and stone.

The head was snapping at the empty air in front of me, its neck too short to reach me. “Turn around! _Turn around!_ I can still smell him!”

The jar appeared a few paces to my left. I snatched it up, but in doing so, realized my hand was now visible as well. The invisibility cream was wearing off.

I unscrewed the lid. I just need a few more seconds.

“Hey, dragon. Are you going to argue all day, or are you ever going to get around to eating me?” taunted Rosella, buying me the time I needed.

“Brew of storms, churn it up!” I incanted as I stirred the dark liquid with my finger. Nothing happened other than the dragon finally taking a step toward Rosella.

A wall of wind and fog burst through the clearing, nearly knocking me over. All three heads roared in displeasure as they stared upwards. The blue sky had vanished behind churning clouds, blacker than I had ever seen. The clearing plunged into a deep twilight and the driving, stinging rain that followed soaked me instantly. Loud cracks and rumbles repeated from all sides as tree limbs, already weakened by fire, snapped and crashed to the ground.

While the dragon was distracted by the storm, I pushed against the wind toward Rosella. I had only taken a couple of steps when light and sound engulfed the world. I was left crouched on the ground, blind and deaf. I could feel the earth shaking underneath me as the lightning continued.

It stopped as suddenly as it had started. I opened my eyes and could see just well enough to make out the dragon stomping around in circles, completely panicked now. Three scorch marks marred its hide. It regained enough sense to stumble its way toward the cave entrance in a desperate attempt at escape. Before it could find refuge, two more strikes hit in quick succession, and it collapsed.


	15. Family

July 18th, 1559

_“It was the happiest moment of my life.”_

_-Alexander, King’s Quest Companion_

I stood as my hearing and vision returned to normal. The wind and rain had stopped, and the clouds were parting to let through a few scattered rays of sunshine. The storm had cleared the fog, and I could see Castle Daventry in the distance.

I looked at the dragon. Its hide was more black than green, and its three heads splayed awkwardly on the ground. Convinced the dragon was no longer a threat, I turned my attention to the Princess. She too was soaked through, her hair dripping onto the ground below.

"It’s truly dead?" she asked.

I nodded. My tongue seemed to have become permanently frozen, the words I had rehearsed remaining unsaid as I struggled to recall them.

_Great first impression, just standing here gawking, instead of you know, untying her._

I took a step toward her, and she shifted in her bonds, attention now warily on me. "I have a knife for those ropes…” I said.

Her turn to nod.

I slipped behind her where I could more easily reach the ropes. A few moments of work was all it took to free her.

She turned to face me, rubbing at her wrists. Voice trembling slightly, she said, "Thank you. That was very impressive magi - oh!" She dropped into a curtsy, the movement graceful despite her wet skirts. “Princess Rosella of Daventry."

Having never seen anyone bow before, I decided against trying to attempt one.

"Are you all right? Are you hurt?" I asked, instead.

“I’m fine, though I think sitting down might be for the best if you don't mind,” she said as she sat down on the nearest rock. She turned to glance at me, her brow furrowing slightly as she paused to scrutinize me more closely. “Have… have we met?”

_Here we go… Remember, eyes up._

“Only as infants, Princess. My name is Alexander."

Her eyes widened, and I answered her unspoken question with a nod.

"You… you do look rather like Father… but you're not the first to make that claim, and I have to be sure, Father - I don't think he could take… none of the other boys had the birthmark..."

I could see the spark of hope in her eyes. They reminded me of Liliana's, back when I had first told her that Manannan would not be troubling Port Bruce anymore.

I think it was fortunate she was already seated when I showed her my birthmark.

"Just like Mother said..." she said, her hand over her mouth.

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground. Rosella had launched herself at me so forcefully we had both been knocked over.

"Oh, um - sorry." She stood and offered me her hand. As she helped me up, she said, "Let's try that again."

This time her hug didn’t involve knocking me over. "I have so many questions - where have you been, how come you haven't come back before now, where did you learn magic!? But then, we should be heading back home - Mother and Father are going to be beyond happy - Father searched for years after you disappeared, but well, obviously he never found you. Then the dragon came, and -"

She continued, but I missed what she said after that. Manannan _had_ lied after all. All those years, I had had a family out there. Here, in Daventry.

"Alexander?"

Oh. Right.

"Sorry, Princess. I'm afraid my mind wandered for a moment."

"Prin-? You're my twin brother! It's Rosella." She smiled. "Ready? I wouldn't mind leaving this behind." She gestured at the dragon corpse.

"Of course."

Other than the occasional warning about a crumbling step or a low overhang, the stairs back down to the valley left little chance to talk. It wasn't until we had exited the cave that we were able to resume our conversation.

"I know Mother and Father will ask as well, but can I ask where you've been? We've all wondered for so long."

"Llewdor. Near Port Bruce."

"That's next to Tamir, right?"

I nodded. "I was wondering if Daventry truly had magical treasures?" I knew I was going to have to tell more about where I had been, but I didn't care to do it more than once if I could avoid it.

"Oh, yes. Father was the one who discovered them after they were lost years and years ago. That's why the old king made him his successor. Though the mirror hasn't worked since you disappeared, otherwise Father would have used it to find you. And perhaps it would have warned us of the dragon. The shield was powerless against the dragon as well."

By now we had arrived at the gnome's house. As we approached, he retrieved his cane and leaped to his feet with surprising agility. "You did it! I'll run ahead and let everyone know. About the dragon, anyway. Best to leave the other good news to the King and Queen, I think."

Before either of us could respond, he rushed off toward the castle, lightning-quick despite his short stature and cane.

"He'll get there twice as fast as we can,” said Rosella, as if that explained the odd encounter. I supposed gnomes learning your name from the wind and running faster than seemed physically possible were normal to her.

Rosella recounted the story of our father recovering the three missing treasures as we walked, and by the time she finished, we had arrived at our destination.

The castle’s layout was mostly rectangular with several towers of varying heights. Crenellations adorned the top of each wall, and a moat surrounded the whole structure. It was a building designed with defense in mind, not all that surprising given the history of war in the area.

Even the castle had not been spared the feeling of fear and despair that plagued the rest of Daventry. Its stones were pitted and blackened, its banners torn and frayed. Other than the occasional tangle of vines that still survived, the only sign of life were two guards stationed at one end of a lowered drawbridge.

"Princess!" shouted one of them, as the other guard asked, "Are you all right, Princess?"

"I'm fine. Great, actually! Where's Mother and Father?"

"We haven't seen them since you left this morning, Princess."

Rosella nodded at him and hurried through the opened gate. The guards gave me a curious look but said nothing as I followed.

People had gathered in groups in the courtyard on the other side of the castle walls. Some were more guards, judging by their uniforms. Others wore an outfit different in cut but still in the same shades of red and blue. The rest wore a variety of dresses, tunics, jackets, and leggings in a wide range of colors and fashions. No matter what they wore, however, all turned toward us as we entered.

"Princess Rosella!"

"Is the dragon truly dead?"

"What happened? And where’s the King?"

The crowd pushed close but let us through to the stairs that led to the main entrance of the keep. Once at the top, Rosella turned to address the multitude of questions.

"The dragon is indeed dead! I know you all want to hear more, but first I must speak to my parents. For now, rejoice and let all know that Daventry has been saved by the bravest of heroes."

I stood uncomfortably to one side as she spoke, the recipient of quite a few stares. The looks only intensified with Rosella’s mention of a hero. If anyone noticed my resemblance to their king, they kept it to themselves. Given my the ragged state of my appearance, it probably wasn’t quite as evident from a distance.

Just as Rosella turned to enter the keep, the door opened to reveal the gnome. Upon seeing us, he stepped to the side.

"I've spoken with the King and Queen," he said once we were inside. "They wanted to come out to meet ya, but the King… he hasn’t been feeling well. He’s with a healer in the throne room."

"Thank you. We really must -"

He waved us on. "Go on, go on. Don't let me hold ya up."

Rosella was fair near running now as we made our way down a long carpeted hallway. At the end of the hall, a set of double doors stood open, through which we were able to hear someone speaking.

"Really, I'm fine! Now I would very much like to -" The voice stopped as we entered the throne room of Daventry.

Later I would take the time to admire the cushioned pews with their intricate woodwork, the grand columns lining the walls, and the majestic thrones that sat atop a stone dais, but for now, I noticed none of this. My focus was entirely on the figures that looked up at our arrival.

King Graham was seated in one of the thrones. He had appeared worried and fatigued when the Oracle had shown me his image, but now he looked seriously ill, his skin gray-tinged.Queen Valanice and a robed man, who I assumed to be the healer, stood close by.

”Rosella!" the King exclaimed as he struggled to his feet.

Next to me, Rosella broke into a real run and rushed into her - our - father's arms. Queen Valanice, ignoring the tears that ran down her face, enveloped both of them in a hug of her own.

The healer remained but retreated several steps as parents and daughter reunited.

"Father, the dragon's dead. You don't have to worry about it anymore. Are you all right?”

"I'm just glad you're here, and safe. That _both _my children are here.” All three turned towards me.

Queen Valanice stepped forward. I managed not to flinch as her outstretched hand cupped my face, her eyes wide as they stared into mine.

"Oh, Alexander..." she breathed, and then I was surrounded by a tangle of limbs and warmth and love. For a moment, the room swam before my eyes, and I was grateful for all the arms and bodies that kept me from falling.

A light flashed, and I would have thought it just a part of the dizziness except the others were searching around for it as well. A golden-framed mirror I had not noticed before hung on one wall close to the thrones. The magic mirror? Rosella said it had been dark for years, but now it glowed, lights swirling and pulsating in its shining glass.

"The mirror!" said Queen Valanice. "It's working again!"

"Manannan..." I said under my breath, as it all suddenly made sense. Manannan had kidnapped me. Manannan had enchanted the mirror so that my parents would be unable to find me. And now his magic was failing, including the spell on the mirror.

Queen Valanice must have heard me, for she glanced back at me. Before she could say anything, King Graham said, “Alexander, Rosella. Believe it or not, this old hat and I have been through a lot together. Now, it's time he had a new traveling companion."

The blue hat he held was worn and battered with a red feather. He looked down at it, then tossed it toward us. Just as it reached the peak of its arc and began the descent downward, King Graham cried out, clutching at his chest, and collapsed.

The hat landed on the floor, forgotten by all.


	16. A Last Hope

July 18th \- July 19th, 1559

_“The strong, valiant ruler of the land lay mortally ill.”_

_-King’s Quest VI Manual_

The next few minutes were a flurry of activity. Two guards fetched a litter while the healer examined the King.

“His heart… all the stress… I’m afraid there’s little I can do, other than administering painkillers and advising rest,” he said as King was shifted to the litter. We left the throne room and traversed several hallways and a set of stairs.

After passing through a room with several couches and cushioned chairs, we entered a bedroom twice the size of Manannan's. The bed, too, was larger than his. The headboard behind it featured a carving of a lion and a unicorn supporting the letter D. Two more cushioned chairs faced a fireplace.

King Graham was still unresponsive, but breathing, as the guards transferred him to the bed.

The healer performed another quick examination. “He’s stable for now, but I would like to consult the court wizard. I will be back shortly.”

“Of course, Ren. Thank you,” replied Queen Valanice. Both he and the guards left.

I was both apprehensive and curious at the mention of a court wizard. Surely the King and Queen would not employ someone like Manannan? I still knew so little about them. On the other hand, perhaps I would have the opportunity to learn more of magic.

Rosella pulled in a third chair from the first room and the three of us sat by the King’s side as he slept on.

Queen Valanice took her husband’s hand in hers. “Graham… I know how weary you are. The toll the past few months - the past few years - have put on you. But you’ve also never been one to give up easily. I need you to fight now. Fight to stay here with us. So you can continue to dance with Rosella on her birthday. To bring me flowers when I least expect it. To get to know your son.”

She gave his hand a final squeeze and moved out of the way so Rosella could take it.

“Do you remember when I was a young girl, and Lord Henry’s son put a frog in my hair? It jumped off, and you and the guards were running around the whole room trying to catch it. I was laughing so much I forgot how much it had scared me. And when you finally caught it, and I remember thinking how brave and strong you were. Please… please be strong now.”

For a few seconds, no one spoke.

“Al-” the queen started to say, but then Rosella broke in.

“It was supposed to be me this day. Not him. I... ” Her thought remained unfinished as, with a sob, she rose and fled the room.

The queen watched her daughter go, and I could see the weariness in her eyes. My own exhaustion must have been just as evident for she said, “I’m sorry, Alexander. With everything I haven’t even asked how you are. You’re not injured at all, are you? Ren can take a look if need be, or I can have food brought up.”

“I’m fine. Though I wouldn’t say no to a bit of water.”

Her rustling silk skirts were loud in the hushed room as she walked to the door. Speaking to someone on the other side, she asked, “We need a meal for three sent up, please. And a bath drawn in… in one of the guest rooms will do for now. Oh, and have Matilda come in.”

She turned her chair to face a little more toward me and sat down again. “I know you’re tired and have been through a lot today. I won’t ask you tell your whole story right now if you don’t wish to, but I do need to know if there is any threat to Daventry. When the mirror flashed, you said a name?”

“The wizard who... took me. I believe he disabled the mirror when he did so, and now that he’s a cat, all his spells are failing. There shouldn’t be any immediate danger to Daventry, though I don’t know what he might do if he ever manages to become human again.”

“Where was this?”

“Llewdor.”

“Llewdor… and you said he’s a… a cat?”

I nodded.

“That really must be quite the story.” She glanced back at the King. His breathing remained steady, but he still showed no sign of awakening. “I hope you can tell it to us both one day.”

The was a brief knock, the door opened, and an older woman walked in. She was wearing the same blue dress I had seen on others in the castle.

“Oh, milady. I’m so sorry. How is he?”

The queen shook her head. “No worse, but no better. Ren has gone to consult with Aleric. Matilda, would you sit down for me? Please, I’ve some news, and I can’t have you collapsing as well,” asked Queen Valanice.

Matilda, glancing at me and looking slightly alarmed, sat on the edge of the chair Rosella had vacated.

The queen’s voice, so steady and strong as she tried to care for her husband and assess the threat to their kingdom, broke on her next words. “He’s back, Matilda. After so long, he’s finally back.”

Matilda stared blankly at the queen for a moment. Then her eyes widened as her gaze shifted back and forth between us. “You’re… Truly?… Last time I saw you, you were taking your first steps…” She made a noise that could have been either laughing or crying or something in-between.

“I think he’s of a height with Lord Venna’s son? Would you ask if he would much mind if we borrowed a set of clothes?”

Quickly recovering from her shock, Matilda cast a more critical eye over me and nodded. “You’re right, milady, that’s the closest we’ll get on such short notice.”

I glanced down. I hadn’t realized how torn and soot-covered the clothes Liliana had given had become.

“Oh, and Matilda, please don’t mention the reason for this request. If you’ve no objections, Alexander, I think it might be best to hold off on announcing your return until Graham…”

“Until the king is well again.” finished Matilda firmly.

“Of course.” I was in no hurry. No need to add the whirlwind of events this day had already turned out to be.

As Matilda exited, a guard took the door from her and held it open as she walked by. He then knocked on the open door and said, “Your Majesty? Lord Bryant here to see you.”

The queen stood, saying, “I’ll be back shortly. I want to go and check on Rosella anyway.”

Alone, I looked at the man lying in front of me. My father; a stranger. I had no shared stories to recall. No fond memories to reminisce over. And yet, this might be the only chance I would ever have to talk with him.

“I wish… things could have been different. That you had found me. Not to say that I blame you for…” I shook my head in annoyance. Why could I never find the right words? Slowly, I took his hand as the others had. Perhaps I didn’t need words.

His hand was rough, calloused from work. To my surprise, I felt a slight squeeze, a small acknowledgment that he knew I was there. I let go as the door opened again and Queen Valanice returned. She tilted her head toward the door, and we both exited to the outer room.

“I don’t want to worry Graham if he can hear us, but Rosella’s gone. A servant heard her talking with someone in the throne room. She’s no longer there, but no one saw her leave, either. I think… I think she may have seen something in the mirror. It’s helped us before.”

We were interrupted by Matilda entering again. “The guest room is ready for you, Prince Alexander.”

I looked back at Queen Valanice. With Rosella’s disappearance, the fatigue and stress were showing more clearly than ever. Already today she had thought her daughter lost, then her husband, and now that same daughter was missing. I suddenly felt reluctant to leave, but she waved me on.

“I’ll stay here with him. If anything changes, I’ll let you know right away.”

I followed Matilda out into the hallway. She was silent until we were out of earshot of the guards that stood outside the King’s door.

“Your father’s not one to give up without a fight. And our physician is one of the best,” she assured me as we turned left down another hallway. She stopped at the next doorway and entered.

The bedroom was smaller but still grander than any I had seen before today. A steaming bath, clean clothes, and tray of food awaited me at the foot of the bed.

“I know everyone will be so excited that you’re here, Prince Alexander, myself included. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you.”

“Welcome home.” She smiled and left, closing the door behind her.

Did I say this day was a whirlwind? No, it was an ocean storm that had swept me up, and it was all I could to keep afloat, carried along from one wave to the next. Now that I was alone, I realized how much I needed the solitude. The bath and meal gave me a moment of calm in the storm, a chance to breathe.

The food, though slightly foreign to my tongue, was delicious, and my appetite roared to life after the first bite. The clothes, too, were strange to my eye with the way the sleeves were billowed and slashed with blue, but they fit well enough to be serviceable.

After dressing, I moved to the curtained window. Pulling aside the thick curtains, I could see a slice of the courtyard below. It was less crowded now, but not empty. A young boy in the blue and red uniform raced in and out of view while several men and women stood together, talking. Despite how much had happened today, it was still only a little after noon.

I returned to the King’s bedroom. Queen Valanice’s expression softened as she looked up at me. “The clothes suit you.”

I glanced down at my shirt, by far the finest than anything I’d ever worn. I didn’t know if I agreed.

“How is he?” I asked.

“Ren and Aleric both came by. Aleric tried a spell, but it’s too soon to tell if it worked.”

I returned to my chair. It really was comfortable. There was another knock on the door. Queen Valanice stepped out to talk to someone, but I didn’t hear who. Their voices had lost all meaning and were now nothing more than background noise. I watched my father’s chest as it rose and fell rhythmically with every breath.  
  


I woke to a stiff neck from sleeping sitting up. Someone had placed a blanket in my lap. Groggily, I looked over at the King. If anything, he was grayer, and his breaths weren’t as even as they had been. Whatever spell Aleric had tried, it didn’t appear to have worked.

“Ren was just here checking on him. He’s doing everything he can, but …” the Queen’s voice trailed off as she looked at her husband. “No word on Rosella yet either.”

She looked back at me. “You were asleep for quite some time. It’s past dark now.”

“I didn’t get a chance to sleep much last night.”

“I’m glad you got some rest then.” She gestured to a small table by the fireplace loaded with covered plates. “I had dinner kept warm for you if you’re hungry.”

At the mention of food, I realized I was starving, despite how much I had eaten earlier.

“Thank you.” With everything going on - Rosella, King Graham, running the kingdom in his absence, she still thought of me-

A chill took me despite my proximity to the fireplace as I sat down beside it. If the King died, and Rosella never returned, would Daventry look to her? Or to me?

“Is something wrong?” She asked.

I didn’t want to bother her with my concerns right now. “Not at all. I’m just a little… overwhelmed.”

She left the King’s bedside and sat down in the chair beside mine.

“Alexander, I don’t know what your plans are; if you plan on staying. I hope you are. I want you to know that you will always - _always_ \- have a home here, and if there’s ever anything you need, you just have to ask. I’ve already requested that the room next to Rosella’s be opened up. It’s yours if you want it. Or any of the other rooms, if you’d rather have one of them. And I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. Listening - it’s one of our duties as parents.”

“I would like very much to stay. And… I do have one question. If the King… and Rosella…” I trailed off, unable to finish.

“Oh. Then, by our laws, the throne would pass down to you. I would be here to help, don’t worry. But Rosella - she’s smart, and brave. And so much like her father. Wherever she is, I’m sure she’ll do everything in her power to finish her quest and return home.

She - and you - come from a long line of adventurers. Graham was a knight before he was King, and his father before him.” She continued, telling me stories of the adventures they had both been on as we waited.

The night dragged on. The physician came and went several times, as did Lord Bryant and others with names I did not recognize. At some point, I slept again, though I don’t think the Queen ever did. King Graham’s condition continued to deteriorate, despite both Ren’s and Aleric’s best efforts.

Near dawn, I was standing by one of the windows, watching the crowd of people gathered in the courtyard. Most held lit candles as they waited for news, good or bad. Footsteps sounded from the hallway, coming loud and fast.

“Princess -” Whatever the guard had to say was lost to the sound of the door being thrown open. Rosella paused not at all but rushed to the bed. She wore the same dress she had the day before, but it was pristine now, clean of all the dirt and smoke that had previously marred it. She held a small red fruit and the King’s feathered hat in one hand, the other holding up her skirts as she ran.

“Father, here, eat this, please don’t let me be too late…” Upon realizing the King was in no condition to chew or swallow, she instead squeezed the fruit to release a little of its juice onto his lips.

The Queen, Rosella, and I watched in silence. Wherever she had gotten that fruit, she clearly believed it could heal him. Yet nothing seemed to be happening.

Then I noticed the King’s mouth moving ever so slightly. And perhaps he looked a bit pinker in color, as well.

“It’s working!” said Rosella as King Graham’s eyes fluttered. “But I think he should eat the whole thing.”

“Let’s prop him up,” suggested Queen Valanice. I helped her add several pillows to the bed behind him. Once sitting up, the King was able to chew pieces of fruit that Rosella fed him. With each swallow, his color and strength improved. By the time the fruit was gone, he was sitting fully upright, looking healthier and more rested than the rest of us.

“How are you feeling, Father?” Rosella asked.

“Never felt better in my life!” He answered. “What was _in_ that fruit?”

“Magic, from Tamir. And how I found it is quite the tale, but first, here.” She handed him his hat. “I don’t think you’re through with this hat, yet! You’ve got too much life ahead of you.”

He took it and looked at it, smoothing out the rim. Then he looked around at all of us. As he donned the hat, he said, “A life with my family. My _whole_ family.”

My father was safe and well, as were my sister and mother.

And I, at long last, was home.


	17. Epilogue

September 20th, 1559  
  
_“It is said, however, that the poor prince did not escape his captivity unscathed.”_  
  
_\--King’s Quest VI Manual_

Thanks to my rather striking resemblance to the King, rumors of my arrival had already spread throughout the entire castle by the time Rosella returned. After announcing that both he and the Princess were doing well, King Graham confirmed the rumors and added that I had saved not only their lives, but the entire land as well.

In truth, I could not have saved my homeland if it had not rescued me first. Daventry. Home, family, freedom - such powerful concepts to be represented by just eight letters on a page. But those eight letters gave me the strength I needed to fight when I knew all odds were against me. To take the next step on the road that leads to the person I want to be.

Once I thought that road led to Prince Alexander, the one who was never stolen. The one who grew up here, happy, with his family. But now I realize that that that identity is more a mask I wear than a real person. But nor am I the slave Gwydion. Not anymore. So where does the road really lead? Where does Gwydion end and Alexander begin?

That is the question I ponder as the sheets of paper beneath my hand drink in both ink and story. They are the sole audience for the whole of my tale; to others, I have only been able to bring myself to share the briefest of summaries. Why do I write, when the only reader will be the fire as it consumes each page almost as soon as it is written? I have no real answer. But when the nightmares come again, and sleep remains elusive, it seems the right thing to do.

My sister asked at dinner tonight if I would care to go riding with her so she can show me more of Daventry. I agreed to go with her, and her answering smile was a reminder that no matter who I truly am, she and our parents are sincerely happy to have me at home again. Home, where I can walk freely and study and read as much as I wish. Where I can start to make up for all the timestolen from us, and where I can take my time discovering the answer.

Maybe I’ll never discover the end of my road. Perhaps no one ever truly does. But I have traveled far from where I started, and for now, that is enough.


End file.
